Sunday's Gone
by LornaCat
Summary: Dave Burns comes back for Gillian. Chapters 1-3 are Gillian's story with Dave, and how Cal comes to accept it. Chapters 4-8 are a separate Callian version, and it is now complete.
1. A Long Year

_A/N: So, congratulations are in order for Calculated Artificiality, for her recent innernette marriage to Gerard Butler. This is her wedding gift, as she requested a fic with Burns in it. :P __We miss Burns, but it was still too hard to decide, so I'm planning two endings: one for Dave, one for Cal. __This first chapter is a jumbled, angst-ridden mess. It's leading up to a more traditional narrative structure in the following 2-3 chapters._

**Summary: **Gillian and Dave have spent a year wondering what could have been. Now, with Dave's return, they'll have to worry about what will be.

**Rated M** for language and sexual content, as usual.

**Spoilers:** Season 2 (Headlock, Exposed)

* * *

**Sunday's Gone**

* * *

She remembered what it felt like to receive flowers, brought to her in person, at work, where everyone else could see. She couldn't stop smiling the rest of that day. She cried in her bed at night, remembering what it felt like the first time he told her he was in love with her. He would say I love you, and he'd take care of her in bed. He'd held her in bed, and he'd held her hand when they crossed the street. He'd been so fucking sweet to her. Of course he had to be taken away.

It hurt less, as more time passed, but she still thought about him every day. The what if's mixed with the I wish's, and she could never decide which of them was worse for her. When she was with Dave, she felt like she'd been touched by real love, clean love, love that she was safe opening herself up to. He was noble; too noble. He'd given his life to the government to solve other people's problems and it only made her love him more, even when it took him away from her. He was pulled out of her life so suddenly, it left her with an empty space behind her ribs, where only the torn roots of a heart ripped out were left. It would have to grow back, slowly and painfully, before she got over him.

* * *

Cal had been sweet to her in the weeks after Dave left. He'd seen her heart break, and he wanted to be there for her, to help put the pieces back together. Then, after he realized she wasn't getting over Dave quick enough, he became a total grump. Cal realized Gillian's heart had been ripped out by Dave leaving, and it drove him mad, because that meant her heart no longer belonged to Cal. Not since Dave had brought her flowers, and not again, not until her heart had returned for her to give away again. And even then it would be a tender heart, a cautious one, one that perhaps wouldn't trust or allow new affection for a very long time.

She didn't flirt with Cal anymore. She didn't grin and laugh about silly things anymore. Cal wanted to believe those days would come back. They'd come back after Alec. Then again, Gillian had fallen out of love with Alec long before the divorce. Cal wanted to trust in Gillian's inner strength and her ability to bounce back. In the meantime, he'd hate Dave for ever bringing her flowers in the first place.

* * *

He remembered what it felt like to bring her flowers, seeing her eyes light up when he poked his head into her office. He asked her to dinner, and she said yes. He knew it wasn't the smartest idea when he was undercover but he couldn't resist her, not for a second.

After he was forced to leave her behind, he would lay awake at night, wondering what she was doing. He wondered if she was over him yet, and if Cal had ever made a move now that he was out of the picture. On the one hand Dave was comforted, knowing Gillian had someone looking out for her. On the other, Dave thought Cal was a mess and knew that he could hurt Gillian as much as he could help her. Both thoughts tortured him on a daily basis - the thought of Gillian being hurt, and the thought of Gillian being cared for by a man that wasn't Dave.

* * *

_"I'll be the blanket," Gillian said as she laid her entire body down on top of him. "You be the pillow." She curled her upper body inward, cuddling him from above, resting her head on his shoulder with her face near his neck. Dave smiled and put his arms around her, one across her shoulders and the other just lower, so he could squeeze her. She nuzzled his neck, trying to get closer, to be as close to him as possible. His hand moved to her hair, stroking it softly, and she inhaled deeply. He smelled amazing. They'd just finished making love, and they were going to sleep naked next to each other for the third time that week. The next day was a Sunday, and they planned to wake up late, snuggle, go to the bakery, bring back pastries and coffee and read the paper together. Then they'd spend the afternoon in bed. Life was damn near perfect._

_

* * *

_

Sunday sex had always been the best. Sunday sex had been epic. When they were all added up, the number of Sundays they'd actually spent together was small, but it was all Gillian thought about when she was alone in bed. At one in the morning, Gillian would pull the covers over her head and close her eyes. She'd imagine herself in Dave's apartment, in Dave's bed, with the eleven o'clock sun streaming in the windows. She'd remember Dave's mouth all over her body, she'd remember the weight of him on top of her, and she'd remember feeling him inside of her. When Gillian got too lonely, she would think about their epic Sunday sex, and she would touch herself, imagining she was back there, back when life was perfect for her. When she came, she would moan, and the sound would remind her that she was alone. In her mind she could hear Dave too, but in the empty silence of her bedroom, her ears could only hear her own moaning. She would come so hard, just thinking about Dave, about his mouth and his hands and his tongue and the rest of him. She'd come, and then she'd cry, knowing that she'd only made it worse for herself by trying to relive the past. She'd curl up in bed and sob against her pillow, the physical satisfaction fading as the emptiness returned. There was no warm body to hold her afterward. She missed him so much.

Dave thought of their Sundays when he was in the shower. He'd make the water so hot that it would turn his skin red, and he'd face the spray, letting the water fall over his back when he bowed his head. He'd close his eyes and think about Gillian's thighs pressed against his pelvic bone. He'd think about waking up beside her and watching her sleep for another twenty minutes, or the times when he woke up after her and found her watching him instead. In either case she'd smile at him, and depending on the mood they'd either do it right then and there, or they would wait until the afternoon. Often, Dave would recall that one night, when they both got drunk and Gillian ended up on all fours with Dave behind her. They'd both gone wild that night, but it made him feel guilty when he thought about it too long, thinking he'd debased her somehow. If he'd known how often she thought of that night too, he would have allowed it a larger place in his fantasy of memories. Gillian was all he thought about when he masturbated, and even the abstract manifestations of her love would turn him on. She'd kept his secrets, the way a life partner would. She was strong enough and smart enough to protect his identity, and for that his Sunday memories were sacred. He would think about his hip bone pressed into the muscles on the back of her thigh, about how deep he'd been inside her, for so long on those lazy afternoons. He'd jerk himself off, alone in his shower, and then he'd be overcome by a sense of loss. He'd press his hand against the wall and rest his forehead on his arm, letting the water scald him as he thought about how impossible it would be to find another woman like her, how futile it would be to even try. He wasn't over her, and he was nowhere near wanting to be.

* * *

_"Oh my god..." Gillian moaned into her pillow. She was laying on her stomach, nude as always on a Sunday afternoon, and Dave had her straddled as he massaged the knots out of her back and shoulders. His hands were so strong, trained for combat and firing guns, Gillian supposed. She cried out when she felt pain, but the pain was delicious, and she didn't tell him to stop or let up. She'd instructed him to dismiss her moans, groans and whimpers, to enjoy them as something sexual rather than a warning to go easy on her. _

_"You're tense." Dave's voice rumbled, making Gillian smile with her eyes closed. "You're letting work get to you again."_

_"Look who's talking." Gillian groaned. He started in with his thumbs on her lower back, and she held her breath for a second before letting it out with an intense sigh. Then she giggled at her thoughts. "Am I going to get the happy ending this time?"_

_"You get anything you want. You know that."_

_Gillian's lips formed a very pleased smile. "I want the happy ending." _

_Dave's hands left her back as he leaned down to speak softly in her ear. "You like when I do that for you?" he asked, his tone playful but still full of meaning._

_"I love when you do that for me..." Gillian replied, already turning over underneath him..._

_

* * *

_

It was easy to think things could have gone on forever that way. Dave and Gillian hadn't been given the chance to fuck up the relationship in a normal way - not in the hard earned, long term way many couples did. The circumstances of their split were ghosts that haunted them, reminding them of a pleasure they were no longer allowed. Things had been perfect, and then they'd been torn apart. It had them convinced that it was Dave's job alone that had been the descructor. It made them both long for a second chance. Things had been perfect, and they would have glady accepted imperfection just to be together again. They would have gotten through the fights, and they would have put up with Cal's attempts at sabotage, just to taste the sweetness of their relationship again.

* * *

One year had passed. Gillian was able to sleep at night, and Dave's showers were shorter, but the times were still often that they crossed each other's minds. They'd spent a year writing entire movie scripts of dialogue between them, choosing exactly what they'd say to each other if they ever saw each other again. They imagined responses both negative and ideal, situations in which both dreams and nightmares came true. The dream was that they'd pick up exactly where they'd left off and live happily ever after. The nightmare was that one had gotten over the other, that they'd be seeing someone else. That they'd be _happy_ with someone else.

Forunately for Gillian, Dave had no one else. His job made that easy. Unfortunately for Dave, Gillian had always had someone else, someone whose eyes wandered only out of frustration, and who'd been given his own second chance by Dave's abrupt departure.

And, unfortunately for Cal, Dave was on his way back to DC. They'd all find out soon enough.


	2. Can I Kiss You?

_A/N: For those only interested in the Cal ending - this is not it. :D I'd love it if you read it anyway, but I understand if you don't. This is part 1 of the pro-Dave version of the story. Part 2 will involve Cal a great deal more. Chapters after that will be pro-Cal and completely different. Just sayin! _

_

* * *

_

_"You're tense." Dave's voice rumbled, making Gillian smile with her eyes closed. "You're letting work get to you again..."_

In her office, Gillian opened her eyes and shook her head, chuckling at herself for daydreaming again. Her neck hurt, and the feeling radiated out into her shoulders. What she would have done for one of Dave's massages...he'd always found every single knot, kneading them until she couldn't remember why they'd formed in the first place. But Dave was gone. He'd been gone for a long time, and there was no use wishing anymore. Gillian took her hands from the back of her neck and put her fingertips back on her computer's keyboard, fully intending to finish the email that she'd started. She had to distract herself somehow, before the good memories made her sad again.

Outside her office, down the hall, the new receptionist was greeting a tall, handsome man with red hair and an impossibly gravelly voice. The new receptionist hadn't been around for very long. She'd never seen Gillian meet this man for lunch. The receptionist had never seen him stop by just to say hi, and she'd never seen them leave together when Gillian was done after an especially long day. The new receptionist didn't know him, so when he strolled in and asked to see Gillian Foster, she didn't register the nervous way his hands gripped the counter. She didn't quite understand why his gaze moved about the hallway in quick glances. It didn't occur to her that he might be afraid of encountering the man whose name was glowing on the opposite wall.

"Welcome to the Lightman Group, sir. Do you have an appointment?" the relatively young woman greeted him.

"Uh, no." said Dave, distracted by his surroundings. It looked the same. It felt familiar. Something about the vibe of the place was different, though. He hoped at least one thing hadn't changed. "Is Dr. Foster in?"

"Um." the new receptionist hesitated. She'd been trained, thoroughly, but those random visitors still threw her off. "I'll check, if you could just wait here?"

"That's fine." Dave nodded, his smile polite and tight-lipped.

"Can I have your name, sir?"

It was his turn to hesitate. He'd had so many. He wanted to pick the one that would mean the most to her.

"Could you tell her Dave Atherton is here to see her?"

_To see her. To touch her. To get down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness. To tell her everything he couldn't say the last time he saw her. _

The girl in front of him nodded, oblivious to his thoughts. Her smile was wider than his, but perhaps less sincere. "I'll be right back." she said, leaving him alone at her desk. Dave cleared his throat, and scratched his forehead with his thumb nail. He was nervous as hell, and he hoped Cal wasn't around. It occurred to him then that he probably should have waited. He probably should have gone to her apartment that evening instead of ambushing her at work.

But he'd come straight from the airport. A year was long enough.

* * *

"Dr. Foster?"

Gillian looked up at the soft knock, and smiled expectantly when her new hire poked her head between the door and the jamb.

"A Dave Atherton is here to see you?" the girl reported, as if she wasn't sure.

Gillian's heart stopped. It _stopped_. It was just for a second, but she felt it in her bones. Her very first thought was that Cal was trying to play a joke on her, and she felt horrible afterward for thinking it. The very idea made her want to hide under her desk until the world ended.

"Should I let him in?" the receptionist asked. "Or...?"

After a few awkward seconds, Gillian realized she was staring. "What did you say?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." the receptionist took a step inside, thinking she hadn't spoken loudly enough. She'd been admonished by Cal once for being too shy. "Dave Atherton is here to see you?"

It wasn't any more believable the second time around. Half of Gillian's emotional recovery had been telling herself that he wasn't coming back, that he couldn't come back, even if he wanted to, so there was no use worrying, wishing or hoping.

"Should I tell him you're busy?" the nice girl offered, reading her boss wrong.

"No." Gillian said quickly. A year was long enough to wait, even if a few seconds wasn't long enough to prepare for a reunion. "Bring him in. I mean, tell him he can come back. He can come in."

The receptionist nodded. She didn't know Dave, so she didn't understand why Gillian was suddenly so flustered. She'd never seen Dr. Foster this way, correcting her own speech not once but twice for one simple instruction. Like she had to get it just right.

When her doorway was once again empty, Gillian tried to swallow, and found that she couldn't. She thought she'd been doing so well. She thought she was almost over him, and suddenly she was back there, fresh with grief and love and a torn out heart. If he was there, if he was really out there and it wasn't just some cruel joke or cruel coincidence, some other man with the same name...if he was there, she was not going to get any work done for the rest of the day.

They'd fetishized every memory. Hand holding, private jokes, the quiet way they supported each other. All of it had been drawn into a fantasy. It was hard to take, after all that wanting, the thought that they'd be in the same room again. It was almost too much, since relief had to take a backseat to the shock and the uncertainty. It would be clear after a few minutes of honest discussion, but they'd have to get through seeing each other first.

She wanted to wait at her desk. She wanted to be professional for some reason, because her brain couldn't process any other way of being. That feeling passed quickly, and Gillian stood up, smoothing the front and back of her clothing. She went to the door, still not believing. She peeked into the hallway. His head was bowed when she spotted him, but he looked up a moment later.

The last time she'd seen him, it had been after a day of captivity and a harsh beating. But that had been one day out of many. It may have been the last day, but Gillian remembered so many others. So much time - though, it had never been enough - spent memorizing the details of his face. Gillian's heart seized up, and a lump formed in her throat. He was clean shaven now, and his head had been buzzed a few weeks ago, judging by its current length.

_What had he been doing all this time? _

Her hair was different too. Longer now. He saw it when he looked up and found her half hiding behind her door. They were both afraid to show any emotion, but their vulnerable smiles were too powerful to supress. He stepped closer, close enough to see the tiny wrinkles around her eyes.

"Gillian."

His voice. Saying her name. Gillian gripped the door handle, taking a step backward to widen the opening. She couldn't speak. She didn't know what to say, and the lump in her throat had grown so big it prevented her from winging it. Dave stepped into her office, watching her eyes and waiting. Her smile was transforming. She was going to cry. Guilt hit him for the millionth time, humbling him just a little bit further for this woman.

She moved. She hesitated. And then she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck very carefully. Sudden movement might disrupt the mirage, she told herself. But once she had her arms around him she knew he was real. She felt his big, strong arms wrap around her waist, and she knew it had to be real.

"Oh my god." he groaned, squeezing her so tight, not knowing if he'd ever be able to let go again. He felt her body shake once, as one sob escaped her throat, so he held her tighter. "I thought about you every day, Gill." he said quietly, his mouth so close to her ear. "Every second, of every minute, of every day."

Her tears started flowing, eyes squeezed shut and teeth bared as her hard cry began. She hated breaking apart so easily. Until she'd heard his name again, she thought she'd grown past it, but something in his voice told her she still meant everything to him.

"I'm so sorry I left you." he said, only making it worse. She'd never blamed him. She'd never been able to bring herself to that place of anger, which had always made it harder. He'd always blamed himself, though. He'd dragged her through it, even when he knew better, just so he would have someone to cuddle with on Sunday mornings. "Ohh, god." he sighed, the relief palpable as he squeezed her. The fact that she'd reached for him first, before saying anything, made him feel better about his own life than he had in a very long time. Since the last time she'd reached for him.

He held her until she got her crying under control. She sniffled, taking one of her hands back to wipe the stream of tears from her cheeks. She laughed a tiny laugh, finding her own behavior ridiculous.

"I'm sorry." she said, taking her other arm back, using both hands to wipe that heavy, steady stream of tears. Dave shook his head.

"You have nothing to be sorry about." he told her sternly. She looked up, into his eyes, asking _Really?_ in a silent, childlike way. "Absolutely nothing." he said.

"Neither do you." said Gillian, but he wouldn't accept that so easily. He looked so ashamed, prepared to explain every way he'd hurt her, but now that she had her voice back she had questions.

"How are you here right now?" she said, her voice weak. "Where have you been all this time?"

"On a case." he said simply, both of them knowing the details of that didn't matter, not now that he was back. "My last case." he said, amending the statement and giving it far more meaning. It caused a fresh wave of tears, new hope that she didn't want to accept until she knew that this was real too.

"They retired me, Gill. I'm out."

A single cry that was equal parts sob and laughter came out of Gillian. How many times had she fantasized about this? Enough times to forget it was actually possible. She set her hands on his chest, feeling his shirt, feeling what she knew were strong muscles underneath it. Her eyes wandered over his chest and shoulders, studying the patterns of the thread on his shirt. _How?_ she wanted to ask. She felt his hand cup her face, hiding his fingers between her hair and her neck, and she looked up at him, struck again by the newness of his clean shaven face. There was love in his gaze, and in his touch. She could feel it, without reading.

"When?" she heard her own voice ask, as if on its own, "When did this happen?"

"They filed the paperwork yesterday."

The next wave of emotion hit her, and Gillian became a blubbering mess. He'd run right back to her, first thing. And now she knew it.

* * *

_"Can I kiss you?"_

_Gillian was sitting next to Dave, on the couch in his apartment. She'd entered a bachelor's lair, and she'd allowed him to seduce her. She was going to leave that apartment a satisfied woman, she could already tell. He asked permission to taste her lips; maybe he already knew Gillian's clothes were about to come off at the mere suggestion of sex. The air in her lungs became infused with her desire, and when she answered him he could hear the lust in her words. _

_"Yes, please." she whispered. Dave smiled at her sweetness, and she smiled back, knowing exactly how it had sounded. _

_

* * *

_

"Can I kiss you?" Dave asked in real time, more than a year later. In that one simple question he was covering all his bases. _Are you seeing someone else? Did you ever start hating me for what I did to you? Are we still a couple even though I left you without saying goodbye?_

Without really thinking about it - without wondering whether she should, in fact, be angry at Dave, for letting her fall in love, leaving her, and then coming back, expecting her to drop everything and go back to him - Gillian smiled through her tears and nodded. She swept the steady stream of tears away from her cheeks. They were replaced by more tears, and even when she licked her lips, trying to rid them of the salty taste, they still kept coming. Dave took both of his hands and set them on either side of her face, his thumbs very slowly and gently sweeping a line across her cheeks, from her nose outward.

His touch had a soothing effect. Gillian's pounding heart slowed to a liveable rate, and, looking into his eyes, she was able to breathe. In the back of her mind she knew it was stupid. In the back of her mind she still thought it was a dream. But it was all her broken heart wanted, so she allowed herself to believe everything was going to be okay.

* * *

Gillian and Dave snuck out the back door of the Lightman Group. Gillian took Dave back to her place, and suddenly it was Sunday again. In no time at all, they had all their clothes off, and it was like they'd never been apart. The difference was the urgency, the intensity and the passion. They knew what it felt like to be denied, to not be able, no matter how much they longed for it. Dave sat on the edge of Gillian's bed, and she straddled his lap, and she took him inside of her and despite everything she'd taught herself about independence and self respect, only then did she finally feel whole again. They moved against one another until they were sweating, Gillian's arms all around his neck, his hands gripping her hips like she was trying to get away. She could moan as loud as she wanted now, because he was right there with her, telling her how much he'd missed her, how much he'd thought of her this way during their time apart.

"You're all I thought about, Gillian..." he said without thinking, the words pouring out of his mouth as they came to him. Pleasure shot through her every time she heard his sex-strained voice, proof beyond the feeling of him sliding in and out of her that he'd barely been living without her. _I need you_, Gillian said with her body, _I fucking need you and it hurt when you were away_. Dave understood, he felt what she was feeling, every time she rocked her body against his. It was hard, and fast, and maybe Gillian was going to be sore later but she didn't care. She was getting so close and all she could think about were his lips and having him so deep inside of her she could feel it in every breath they were taking. They kissed and kissed and kissed, and when Gillian felt her orgasm begin, her open mouth was pressed against his in a kiss that froze the moment he felt her muscles contract around him. She cried out, and he wrapped his arms all the way around her waist as her body shook. She hugged his neck, holding him close as her hips moved faster, and she rode it out, mind completely blank for a few precious moments as she came just from having him inside of her. Pleasure, everywhere, squeezing him, tensing every muscle. When it started to fade, the motion of her hips slowed, and she felt tears sliding down her cheeks. It had been that good.

Dave dragged his lips across her jaw, and buried his face between her neck and shoulder. He was making those telltale sounds, and Gillian started her steady rocking again. His hips moved underneath her, both of them pushing forward and toward each other at the same time. The sounds in his throat grew more intense, and she could hear in them how desperate he'd been for her. She wanted to see it. She took his face in her hands, gripping his head to steady herself. She stared at his face until he looked up at her. He saw the tears, soft on her face, and he realized fully the intensity of their lovemaking. He wondered if - no, he knew she was reading him. He showed her everything. He looked into her eyes and showed her he was fucking the love of his life and, when he came, he came like his body was on fire and Gillian was the only water that could put him out. He called out her name, and hips jerked up into her, and she held on tighter, never letting go. His eyes closed, the warmth of her causing his heart to ache. She let her eyes slip closed in response, and she let her arms slip around his neck again as his warmth poured into her in waves.

When it was over - when they sat there, silent, still connected as they caught their breath - Gillian could feel her heart pounding in her chest. That's when she realized they hadn't used protection. That's when Gillian realized that she'd left her heart wide open, and that after a year of healing she was back at the start, vulnerable and needing him again. Her eyes fluttered open, and with tear-blurred vision she stared at the alarm clock on her bedside table. The red lights blurred into a meaningless blob the longer she looked. A blink would only bring them into focus for a moment.

When the last number on the clock changed, she let her eyes slip closed again, letting her mind return to the man in her arms. She could feel his breath, heavy on her chest, as his senses returned to him. Her thighs still squeezed his waist. She was afraid to let go and ruin this perfect moment before they started talking again.

Maybe they could lie in silence for a while, and stretch the moment out a little longer.

She still had so many questions.

He knew she had questions. But they did lie there in silence, for a full thirty minutes before either of them spoke a word. Dave was on his back, staring at the ceiling, in the same exact daze as the woman curled up next to him, her head on his chest as she stared at a spot between herself and the far wall. His arm held her around her shoulders, and that hand stroked her back up and down with endless tender caresses. It kept her calm. It kept her from falling apart.

"Are you okay?" Dave asked her. The sound of his voice again, the sound of it in her bedroom, made Gillian close her eyes and feel every inch that their skin was touching. That felt good. But she was not okay.

"What does that mean, they retired you?" she said, forcing the words out of her mouth even though the disrupted the warm fuzzy feeling of being with him again.

"It means you never have to worry about them contacting me, ever again." he said, with confidence and finality.

Gillian's heart hardened at the word _never_. Dave knew better than to promise her that. With a clearer head than before, Gillian lifted her upper body off of his. She stayed close, leaning on her elbow as she gazed directly into his eyes. His hand still rested on her back. He believed what he said. She just didn't know why.

"We both know the government isn't exactly fond of forgetting about people like you." she said, very serious. Dave looked back at her, feeling every word, until he started to feel the grime of his past sneaking up on him. He didn't want to get her dirty. He never wanted her to feel dirty because of him.

_People like me. People who take lives - people who _took_ lives - in the name of...something._

He averted his eyes, but he didn't withdraw emotionally. He was smart enough to know Gillian deserved better than that. That's why he'd come back; he'd asked for another chance and she'd given to him, and that's why her questions were fair.

"How do you know they won't call you one day," she asked. "Or show up on your doorstep? On _my_ doorstep?"

Dave's expression remained steady. Gillian shook her head gently, absent-mindedly. His confidence wasn't good enough to convince her. She was still staring at him, still needing a clear explanation. Dave took a deep breath, and she waited patiently.

"Some bad shit went down." he began. "On the last case."

There he went again, using those definitive, final words._ Never, last, retired_.

"Isn't that exactly the sort of thing that would make them come after you?"

"You make the agency sound like the criminals." he said, trying to make light of things and regretting it instantly when she remained serious.

"They took you away from me once." she said, her eyes drilling holes through his heart until it it bled. "If there's even the smallest chance that could happen again, I need to know. _Now_."

Dave watched Gillian's eyes fill with the tears that she was fighting. Her voice was steady and commanding, but at the same time she was remembering the year she'd had to live without him. Every part of her felt weak for him, except for that part that needed to know.

"Gillian." said Dave.

He said her name like it was a promise. She hoped the rest of it would be that good.

"I wouldn't have come back if I didn't think I could make you happy."

Gillian shut her eyes, squeezing another tear from each of their corners.

_I'm crying again_, she thought, as Dave raised the hand that wasn't on her back to wipe the tears that had started falling. _And he doesn't want any of the tears touching my pillow. _

"Tell me." she said, leaning into his touch as she opened her eyes again. "I need to know how."

"I know you do." he said. His quick exhalation was one of relief, and amusement. She always found out the whole truth with gentle, direct detective work. He'd witnessed her working with Lightman and Dave could always see why Cal needed her. Why he wanted her. Dave was sure Cal still wanted her, and would still be protective of her to the point of being painfully obvious about his feelings.

Dave thanked every deity he could think of that he'd gotten back in time to get her back. Now that he had his second chance he wasn't going to let her go. Ever again.


	3. As Long As She's Happy

_A/N - This is the final part of the Dave ending. I mean, it's the super pro-Dave/Gillian, Cal-lets-go-ending. It ended up being all from Cal's point of view, but if you only have room in your heart for Callian this might not be your thing.  
The next chapter I write will be part one of the **Cal **ending - angsty as hell, but overall super-pro-Callian. The LornaCat sword is double edged!_

_

* * *

_The next morning Cal wandered toward Gillian's office as if he had anywhere else to be. She half ignored him as he slowly walked inside, with his hands in his pockets and an expression like he was trying to hide his feelings until he'd figured out what she was feeling first. Gillian glanced up once, giving him a tight lipped smile before turning back to her computer. She was typing fast, another work email, perhaps something she'd left hanging the day before. When she'd disappeared for no apparent reason.

Gillian was actually adding more and more to her email, to give herself time to think. She hadn't told anyone where she was going that previous day. She _never_ left without giving a reason, and Cal had that look on his face like he was going to ask her all about it. Like it bugged him.

When she was done typing, she shifted in her chair and gave Cal her full intention. Her expression didn't change. It was detached, so much colder than he was used to. Defensive. Preemptive. He stood there in front of her desk with his hands in his pockets, trying to mirror her attitude. He was worried and curious and trying to hide it all. As if she didn't know him better than that.

"Where were you yesterday afternoon?" he said, with a hint of accusation. He could tell by the absolute lack of change in her demeanor that she'd been expecting this conversation, probably dreading it. He continued anyway. "I could have used you."

Gillian's expression changed then. Bad start.

"I needed you." he amended his statement.

"Something came up." Gillian said, far too simply. She kicked herself for being so vague right out of the gate. She could read his mind. He was thinking _You have no family, and therefore no emergencies; what could be more important than me?_ She knew he felt bad for thinking that way, but still...

"Did you swear the new receptionist to secrecy, or something?" Cal said, trying to shift the conversation to a lighter tone. If he'd really wanted to do that, though, he would have sat in the chair in front of her desk. He remained standing, his hands still in his pockets. "She told me you might have left with a strange man," he continued, hinting at what was really bothering him. "But she couldn't remember his name. I thought she might be-"

"Dave is back." Gillian cut in, Cal's cluelessness becoming too painful to bear. He stared at her in silence for five seconds, frozen for what felt like five years as his mind wrapped around that little nugget of information.

"Dave." Cal echoed, his tone saying _Dave who?_ even though his body language gave him away. He knew there was only one Dave that could make Gillian behave this way toward him.

"Dave." said Gillian, struggling with the last name. "Burns." she said descriptively. "Dave Atherton." she said for clarity, hoping to god that the heat in her cheeks wasn't visible as a blush. As happy as she was when she was in his arms, she sensed that she wasn't allowed to be happy about it in front of Cal and that was embarrassing for her. "He came back." she reiterated, for the happiness impaired.

Another painfully loud silence followed.

"What for?" Cal then said, tone flat, a little harder now, the shock fading and settling into well-controlled dread.

_What do you think?_ Gillian wanted to spit at him, but she controlled herself too.

"For me." she said tersely. As if he should have known she was enough.

But of course he knew. Cal's heart was panicked. She was so sure about something. She'd reached a conclusion without consulting him first, and she was all prepared to defend herself. This was no good, no good at all. The things she was saying, the things she was telling him, she was telling him because she had to, because she was being confronted. Not because he was her best friend.

"How is he 'back'?" Cal said, mocking the simple concept and making all of it more difficult. "He's got the golden VIP pass in the witness protection program, why would they let him risk that?"

Gillian took a deep breath. Her heart must be racing, Cal thought.

"He's no longer working for the DEA."

Cal wanted to tell her that things like that didn't happen, but he could think of a few instances where it might be possible. None of those instances were comforting. In a way, they all made it worse.

"He gave his two weeks notice, did he?" said Cal, making the little worm of anger in his heart wriggle with pleasure when he saw Gillian's reaction, her anger stirring as well.

"There was...an incident," she said, putting it lightly. "That they don't want him to talk about. And the price of his silence was complete severence."

"You believe that?"

GIllian looked at Cal, contemplating her next move. He looked back at her, waiting.

"I mean, if they wanted him silent, why wouldn't they just kill him?" Cal asked, honestly curious and knowing full well that it was the wrongest thing for him to say.

Contempt. He saw more than a flash of it on her face. _You rotten bastard._ it said. God, it hurt coming from her. But he had to know, and she had to realize that. After a few more seconds of painful facial honesty, Gillian took another deep breath.

"Shut the door." she said quietly. "Please."

* * *

_"He doesn't want me to follow him." Gillian stated, her stomach twisting as Dave's form receded down the hallway._

_"No." said Cal. He'd never felt more uncomfortable in his entire life. "They're gonna move him." he explained. "Change his name."_

_The pain that came over her face then; it was like he'd stabbed her right in the heart. She struggled to find her voice, her body still in motion as she stood in one spot. She was sure she'd fall apart if she stopped moving._

_"I liked the one he had."_

_Cal wished for Gillian's sake that she was home alone, in privacy so she could have a good cry, not in the middle of a crowded hospital as her boyfriend was led away by his handlers. The realization that she'd never see him again had passed slowly over her like a dark cloud, and her eyes filled with tears. Cal could feel her sadness. His heart broke for her. She'd truly loved him and he hadn't even said goodbye. _

_"Sorry, love." Cal said, feeling helpless. He didn't even blame Dave for acting like everything would be fine. He understood wanting to leave Gillian with a smile on her face, so it would be the last thing he remembered. He _did _blame Dave for leaving him with such a mess, for starting this love affair in the first place. He'd had no right._

_Gillian was beside herself. The day was catching up with her, the enormity of what had happened and what it had cost them. She looked like she couldn't breathe. Cal reached for her, just for her elbow, but she shrank away._

_"No," she said lightly. "I'm fine."_

_Cal winced as he saw another wave of nausea hit her. "Gill." he said gently. She heard it in his voice. She was not fine. It took her another moment, but she did let Cal take her in his arms. Cal held her, and felt her crying, and he experienced true sorrow. He'd accepted Dave's place in her life, jealous but never hateful. As long as she was happy, he'd told himself. _

_Dave's past had almost gotten them killed today. Maybe now Cal could hate him a little._

_

* * *

_

She told Cal the whole story that Dave had told her, and to Cal's utter dismay it actually made sense. It involved a lot of violence, a little blackmail and the complete dissolution of moral boundaries on both sides. If it had been a case they were working, Cal would have been fascinated and eager to hear the resolution, but this man was allowed to touch Gillian and that made all of it absolutely unbearable. It made him sick that Gillian was okay with it. In the grand scheme of things, Dave was the good guy, but that didn't make him innocent. It didn't make him safe, and in Cal's eyes it didn't make him anywhere near worthy of her, not anymore.

"You're gonna be with someone who's capable of that?" Cal asked her, trying to open up her eyes to reality.

"You're judging _me_?" she replied. It was barely a question, the upturn at the end simply a way of expressing her disbelief. _Me_, as opposed to _you_. Because Cal's choices made her angry too.

"I'm worrying about you." Cal corrected her, trying to bring warmth into the argument, to bring it back to friendship. Underneath that he was trying to explain his own behavior, what she saw as his double standard.

_I'm the rotten bastard, remember? Your heart bleeds for strangers. You're in love, Gill, and that makes you blind. I've got my eyes wide open for you. Now listen._

"I was here." Cal reminded her. "The entire time. I was here to see what his leaving did to you."

"It wasn't his fault." said Gillian. Maintaining her patience was a struggle.

"Right." Cal said, suddenly dismissive. "Only, it was."

Jesus, out of all the scenarios he'd thought up since yesterday afternoon, he hadn't been expecting this. It made sense in hindsight, and now he wanted the last twenty-four hours of his life back. He wanted the last six months to do over, to seduce her away from her own incorrect memory. Dave was bad for her, he broke her heart. Didn't that mean anything anymore?

"Cal," Gillian said carefully. She was looking down at the surface of her desk, and he could sense the end of the conversation coming. "I didn't know he was going to show up until he was already here. It was very sudden, and I still don't really know yet what I'm going to do or where it's going."

It was obvious Gillian had so much more to say on the subject, but she hesitated, and stopped. Cal could do a lot better than guess at what had really gone on the previous day. She did know where it was going. She knew what she wanted, she just wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. It wasn't often for her that one had anything to do with the other.

Cal didn't like to think about the two of them going at it. So he got defensive - he shut down completely, and she almost felt guilty about how relieved that made her.

"Right. Sorry to bother you then." he said as he left her office, his eyebrows jumping for a second, telegraphing the sarcasm inherent in the statement. No pet name, no 'love'. Just sarcasm and a brisk walk out.

Gillian stared at the space he'd been occupying just moments before. Moments stretched to minutes and she was still staring, lamenting the fact that they got along so much better when she was still married.

* * *

Gillian started leaving work on time every evening. Suddenly she had somewhere to be at night, somewhere other than the office to catch up on paperwork. Cal watched her drift further away each day, while she 'figured out where it was going'. It was an adjustment that neither of them took lightly. Either Dave was going to stick around, or he was going to leave her again. Either way, for one of them, it was going to hurt.

A week after Gillian told Cal that Dave was back, Dave came to see Cal in his office. Cal didn't even bother reading Dave on his way in. Cal read himself instead, measuring the physical and mental reactions he had to the appearance of Gillian's lost love, now found. He didn't vomit at the sight of him, which Cal found unfortunate. It would have been amusing to see Dave's reaction to _that_.

"What can I do you for?" Cal asked, his non-chalance surprising but for the edge in his voice. There was way too much he wanted to say, so he thought he might as well let Dave have his piece, get it over with, so they could both go back to silently resenting each other.

"I came to talk to you about Gillian." said Dave, in that ridiculous voice of his. Cal wondered if his mother fed him rocks as a child.

"I'm shocked." Cal replied in the meantime, to what seemed like Dave's only purpose. "Do go on."

"I want to have a serious discussion with you, Cal. Because this affects all of us."

_Don't I know it._ thought Cal. "Come for my blessing, have you?" he said out loud.

"That's one way of putting it, yeah."

"Spit it out, then."

"Gillian explained the situation to you?"

"_Your _situation? Yes. She explained it."

"We have a real chance to be together." said Dave, ignoring Cal's attitude and his semantics as usual. "The only thing holding her back is you. You're a huge part of her life. Your friendship, and this company. She can't be with me unless she knows you're okay with it."

"Does she know you're here right now?"

Dave's brow furrowed, eyes narrowing. "...Does that matter?"

"To me, yeah." said Cal. "It matters a great deal."

There was an awkward pause, as Dave gathered his thoughts. Slowly, he came to an explanation. "We've talked about everything I'm saying to you right now. We discussed talking to you about it somehow. But no, she doesn't know I'm here. She didn't send me in here, if that's what you're asking."

Cal nodded, accepting.

"Does that make it better or worse?" Dave asked, genuinely curious.

"Dunno yet." Cal said, though he doubted anything would make this exchange easier. "Keep going."

Dave stifled a sigh, and went on with making his point, slowly but surely. "People talk about finding and losing the love of their life, and I get that now. I had her, I lost her, and now I have her back. I can't lose her again. I won't."

"Yeah. But what if she's mine too?"

Dave paused again at Cal's challenge, and Cal found a reflection of his frustration in Dave's eyes. They both saw each other as the man that hurt Gillian Foster.

"With all due respect," Dave said, implying that Cal didn't have as much due as he thought. "You had your chance." he said plainly. "And you blew it."

That feeling in Cal's heart, the stabbing feeling - that was the truth, cutting into him. He could hear the annoying little squish as that truth plunged in. Not even Emily had put it to him that way before. She hadn't the heart to hurt him that much. The stakes were higher for Dave, he supposed. Dave could afford to take a chance at offending him, though that wasn't his goal.

"I'm not here to antagonize you." said Dave.

"You're asking me to let her go." said Cal, saving him the breath and the backpedaling. "So you can have her."

"It's not just for me. It's for all of us. She wants to be with me, and if you don't let her go now we're both gonna lose her."

"...Come again?"

"I didn't make her choose." said Dave. "I asked her if she wanted to be with me, and she said yes. But, if you keep pulling on her from the other side, if you keep her in the middle like that..."

"It'll destroy whatever relationship I still have with her." Cal finished the thought, already quite familiar with the idea. He could tell by the way she acted around him now. She was walking on egg shells. _She_ was, not Cal, the one that should have been. She was distancing herself from him because he didn't want to talk about, didn't want to hear about, didn't want to _think _about her being with anyone else, and she knew that.

_Ugh_. Dave was right. Fighting this, ruining what good she could still have in her life, would drive her away completely. He couldn't be both jealous lover and best friend. It didn't work coming from the same person.

"You really think you can make her happy?" Cal asked him. Like the conversation he'd had with Gillian, he could sense the end of this one coming too. It had been decided, but Cal wouldn't let Dave go without making sure.

"I'm gonna try my damn hardest-"

"You can't just try," Cal interrupted him like he interrupted Torres during an important lesson. "You have to _do _it."

Dave chuckled, in that disbelieving way he always did when having serious conversations with Cal. "I figured coming here and saving your friendship would be a good start."

Cal nodded very slowly. It was a great start, not that he'd ever admit it.

"If you break her heart again," said Cal. "I'll kill you."

"And I'll let you." Dave promised him.

Cal nodded again. They were done here.

"If you try to shake my hand now, I'll kill you for that too."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Dave said sarcastically, though his relief was audible.

"Go see her." Cal told him. "Tell her what we talked about. No reason to start things out with secrets and lies again."

Dave didn't ignore that jab; he accepted it, recognizing the truth like Cal had accepted his.

"Thank you." said Dave. He was so earnest, it made Cal want to smash his face through a window. Captain America had just convinced him not to fight for Gillian's affections, and Cal didn't know if it was because he was too weak to stand up, or if he was strong enough to let her go.

_You had your chance,_ thought Cal._ And you blew it. Or maybe you were never meant to be more than friends after all._

_

* * *

_Six months later, Gillian came to work with an engagement ring on.

Cal was the last to know. It hurt, but he got through it.

* * *

Two months after that, they had The Talk. Cal told Gillian how he really felt about her, and she thanked him for his honesty. He explained to her that, for the better part of their entire time together he'd been in love with her, in love or in denial, and that he'd been waiting for the right time to tell her. There was never a right time, though, and so he'd finally decided to cut in at the wrong time, the hardest time, and ask her to choose between a decent thing and Cal Lightman, rotten bastard extraordinaire.

Her stance was that it was too late, she was with Dave now, and he made her happy even with all of his baggage - because none of it actually involved her. She told Cal that she would always have feelings for him, but too much history had passed between them to ever have a functional romantic relationship. From Gillian's point of view, they'd passed the point of no return long before Dave had come back into the picture, and she told him that hoping it would help take the sting away from being rejected. From Cal's point of view, they'd only just reached a point where they _could_ have a functional romantic relationship. Where _he_ could, at least. Sadly, he could see from Gillian's point of view as well. And it didn't just sting. The feeling choked his heart and made the entire world look gray.

_Never say never_, Cal told her lightly on his way out, even though he was certain he'd never stop loving her the way he did.

* * *

On the day of her wedding, Cal snuck into the room where she was waiting for the small, simple ceremony to begin. He'd dreamt a million ways to tell her she was making the biggest mistake of her life - marrying Dave, getting married again in the first place - but he kept them as dreams. She looked far too beautiful to have her perfect day ruined. She was seated at a vanity, her shoulders still facing it as her head turned to look at her visitor.

Her smile faltered when she saw him there in the doorway. Worried he'd come to talk her out of it. She knew him well.

"From one divorcee to another," he started off slowly. "...I truly wish you the best of luck this time around."

Gillian's genuine smile returned, and she was grateful. Even if it wasn't the whole truth, the fact that he was saying it - that it was what he wanted her to believe - meant a great deal to her.

"You thought I was going to try and stop you." Cal observed, walking over to her, placing a hand on the back of her chair as Gillian turned back to the mirror. They both looked at her face for a moment, until Gillian's eyes met the reflection of his.

Reluctantly, Gillian admitted it. "The idea had occured to me."

"Well. I did watch _The Graduate_ last night."

"Cal." she said, the lightest of warnings.

"I'm trying, love." said Cal, his facade beginning to crumble.

She turned again and looked up at him, her eyes pleading now. It was already hard enough, watching him force himself to accept her new life. She didn't want to see how deeply it hurt him. She needed to know he'd be okay.

"Try harder." she whispered.

He looked into those eyes for a sign, for any indication of the words _Get me out of here! _hidden away somewhere. He read, and he found no such plea for help. No secret longing for him to tell her they could leave together and never look back. She wanted him to be over her, and if he cared about her at all - if he cared about her happiness in the slightest, and not just his own desires - he would keep pretending until he was really okay.

Cal inhaled deeply, bringing a smile to his face. Somewhere, buried inside of him, was the part of him that only longed for her happiness. It existed, somewhere down there, and he imagined it as an endless well growing larger and larger within himself. He was going to have to draw from it constantly now.

"You look absolutely radiant." he told her, leaning down to kiss the top of her head the way a father would. She closed her eyes, wondering if he would linger, but he did not. He moved away, and when she opened her eyes she saw him at the door, pointing at her. "Don't forget your lines." he said, and she was able to smile at the humor.

* * *

Throughout the first pregnancy, Cal found it easy to sit with Gillian and talk to her about everything Zoe went through with Em. Instead of becoming depressed, sad that he wasn't the father of Gillian's first baby, he recognized how happy it made her, and that made him happy, and their mutual happiness had a multiplying effect. Even on days she was miserable with morning sickness, her smile would eventually come back and brighten his day.

At eight and a half months, Gillian waddled slowly into Cal's office and took a seat on his couch, both hands on her belly and a thoughtful smile on her face. He ignored the video playing on his computer, pausing it absent-mindedly as he let his elbow slide until his upper body was almost laying on the desk. He looked at her with eyebrows raised.

"If you're wondering where the food is," he said. "You've already eaten it."

Gillian smiled, humming with a single, wry chuckle.

"We're very hungry, Gill."

"I can't see my feet when I lay down." she said, ignoring him, lifting her feet from the floor and peering down at them to remind herself which shoes she'd put on that day. No heels for months now. "She's almost here, Cal." Gillian sighed, resting her feet on the floor and her head on the back of the couch.

"I don't know what I'm going to do without you for two months." Cal said affecting a weary, worried expression. "I want you back sooner, but, on the other hand, I know what it's going to be like and I want you to take _more _time off."

Gillian smiled, remembering the stories he'd told her. Being father to Emily had been more important to him than anything, even his work, she was convinced of that now. He missed it, and she fully intended to let him live vicariously through her.

"I want to thank you." said Gillian, her voice suddenly sentimental in a way that threw him off.

"Whatever for, darling?" said Cal, trying to sound laidback. Even though he was happy for her, he still had strong feelings for her, and when she got close enough to his heart to poke it like that, it still hurt.

"For everything." said Gillian. "For all your advice, and all the stories." She was starting to tear up. Cal could hear it in her voice, and in the way she tried to hide it. She waited a moment before saying the last reason, waiting for the tears to drain away. "For being happy for me." she said, her voice breaking as the tears began to spill. She rolled her eyes at herself, and she sat up, putting her knuckles beneath her eyes to clean up the mess. "These hormones." she muttered, as Cal got up and walked around his desk to go sit with her.

"Sure, love. Blame the hormones." he teased her, chuckling when she smiled. He flopped down beside her, and offered his arm for her shoulders. He tried to keep the touchy feely stuff to a minimum, especially when Dave was around, but at the moment a hug seemed more than appropriate. She leaned on him, head on his shoulder, and accepted the one-armed embrace as it was offered. In friendship.

"We both know you're prone to waterworks even without baby-induced mood swings."

"Watch it, Cal." Gillian warned him. "When I swing the other way I become the She-Hulk."

"Aren't you the She-Hulk all the time now?" Cal continued to tease, in reference to her size rather than her temper. Gillian scoffed, tapping his chest with the back of her hand.

"_You wouldn't like me when I'm pregnant._" Cal whispered to the top of her head. It made her giggle, and that's how Anna found them when she appeared in the doorway. She couldn't hide her reaction; she wasn't the type to try, since she knew they'd read her anyway. Surprise, relief, happiness - it made her happy to see Cal and Gillian laughing together - and then just a twinge of sadness on Cal's behalf.

"Dave is here." Anna said to Gillian, smiling before she left them alone. Cal noticed that Gillian hadn't moved away from him when she saw Anna. She'd stayed there smiling with her head on his shoulder because they were friends. Very, very, very good friends.

"Help me up." Gillian whispered after Anna had gone. Gillian tried sitting up, but she didn't get very far by herself until Cal put his hand behind her back and pushed. They both got her to her feet, and he followed her outside, his guiding hand dropping from her lower back when they entered the hallway.

"Hey, baby." Dave said warmly, his whole face taken over by the goofy smile he got from seeing his pregnant wife. Cal glanced at Gillian straight after, in time to catch her face light up too. He thought he'd be sickened by it, but he found his heart was actually made warmer by the exchange.

"Hi, Cal." said Dave, catching Cal's attention again with his politeness. Cal turned to Dave and gave him a nod, maintaining eye contact for about half a second before he turned back to Gillian.

"I'll see you around, then." he said to her. She smiled at him, and nodded. "You'll be a mum next time you're here." he added pleasantly.

"Finally." she said, a verbal wink, as she and Dave reached for each other's hands.

"Thanks for taking care of her." Dave said to Cal, giving him a small smile as he switched her hand from his right to his left, placing the newly freed hand on Gillian's lower back. Where Cal's had been. Cal once again responded with silence, returning the small smile and giving him another polite nod.

"You ready for maternity leave?" he heard Dave say to Gillian as they walked away.

_No!_ Cal wanted to shout. _Give her back, you wanker..._ he thought, but even that private thought tapered off limply at the end. They were going to be such a happy family.

* * *

When Gillian brought the baby in for the first time, Dave came with her, and the entire office gathered around them next to the receptionist's desk. They formed a smiling, cooing mass of bodies that Cal could barely see through when he finally went out into the hall. He didn't mind the crowd; he'd already had the privilege of meeting their daughter in the hospital, soon after the birth. He'd gone with Emily, and after giving their congratulations and flowers to the exhausted and proud new parents, they stood peering through the window of the nursery together.

"Did I look like that?" Emily asked her father.

"Nah." said Cal. "You were much cuter."

"You're just saying that 'cause I'm yours."

"Well, of course. You're a Lightman, and therefore cuter..."

When Gillian and Dave brought the baby to the office, Cal was able to observe some behaviors he hadn't noticed before. Probably because he tended to avoid the couple when they were together.

Dave hefted both baby carrier and diaper bag, allowing Gillian to hold the baby when she needed to be displayed. Dave watched his daughter's face and smiled, even as he answered questions about her, and he made sure to give Gillian everything she needed without her even having to ask for it.

Cal hadn't been that way with Zoe. Zoe had always wished he could be like that with her, but nothing about her had drawn that out of him. She'd demanded it without deserving it, whereas Gillian didn't have to ask. For a moment, Cal allowed himself to wish that she'd asked him, just once. Maybe that's all it would have taken, to make him change into what she needed him to be?

But no, that wasn't the way it worked.

Gillian finally had everything she'd ever wanted - a loving husband, a beautiful baby girl...and Cal as her best friend, because there are things one can forgive in a best friend that just don't fly for a lover and life partner. For Gillian's sake, Cal was satisfied with that. His heart still ached a little, but he'd grown used to that over the years. He'd take what he could. The way he always had with her.


	4. I'm With You Now

_Generic Explainy A/N: Did I say traditional narrative structure? Bahhh. Anyway, this is the first part of the Cal ending, in which I totally make up for chapter 3, and then introduce a slight creep factor. :D Dave's gonna be all up in the mix, but...he's different in this one. So, __**go back and read chapter one, and pretend two and three never happened**__!_

_Special Credit A/N: Thanks to McBreezy, the -ina to my Audr-, for explaining a very important debate. I think she made it up on the spot too._

_Special Wedding Gift A/N:  
Dear T-rard,  
__I'm holding my fingertip to my chin, imagining the two of you sitting on the couch in front of a modest fire (in the fireplace, don't call 911) sipping hot cocoa while you read this together. It's what motivates me, really. That and the fact that I feel bad about the Dave ending (even though Dave/Gill makes me happy too). LOL. Enjoy, and stay married 'til I finish this thing!_

_

* * *

_

So much can happen in a year. Two people can grow apart, stop talking, start thinking the relationship is over for good. Then, like magic, like that year never happened at all, those same two people can find each other again. They can realize what they had was too important to throw away. They can decide to get over their mistakes, look past all the hurting they've caused each other and move on. One can kiss the other, in a moment of weakness and lust, and they can rediscover the tenderness that had been lost from their friendship.

So many good and bad things can happen, to two people, together. The bad reminds them that no life, no relationship, is ever perfect. And the good reminds them that all the bad is worth it in the end. No matter what.

Cal and Gillian were going through a rough patch. Most of the year had been a rough patch, really, save for those first few glorious months when they'd realized having sex was better than fighting. Eventually she'd started laughing at his jokes again, and her laughter reminded him that being tender was a hell of a lot more rewarding than being a total dick. Her smiles reminded him that a happy Gillian was a happy Cal, but sometimes they were not so happy. Jealousies lingered, and certain names that could not be avoided because of work still set them off without notice. Understanding their feelings didn't make it any easier; it was the getting past them that would count.

They'd gone to bed angry last night. They'd tossed and turned, their dreams filled with dark metaphors. Work was stressing them out, more than usual. They both realized, when they woke up sad the next morning, that work stress had been the primary cause of their fight. Unacceptable. There were so many other things, juicy things, they had to fight about. The work stress fights were such a time waster.

Cal woke up sad and laid in bed, letting paranoia get the best of him when he decided he'd better be the one to apologize first. He was alone in the bed. She'd gotten up before him. They didn't live together yet, but Gillian still spent the night even when she was angry at him. It was better than sleeping alone, even if one of them had to wake up alone. He was reminded once again why he usually chose to have sex with women that didn't mean much to him beyond a conquest. The thought of losing Gillian brought genuine fear to his heart.

After staring at the ceiling for a good twenty minutes, Cal sat up. After staring at the floor for another five, he left the bedroom, barefoot and boxered, and went to the kitchen where Gillian was drinking her morning coffee. He'd started buying a different kind for her, so she'd stop going to Starbucks every morning.

_"It's a waste of money." he said. "It's a rip off is what it is."_

_"I like their coffee." she replied, voice flat, refusing to be steamrolled by his negativity even though, deep down, she agreed with him. It led to bickering, which led to a fight, which then led to Gillian's deadly silent treatment. So he bought three bags of the coffee and asked her to sleep over. The sex had been great that night. _

The sex had not been great the night before. The sex had not been had at all. They'd gone to bed angry, but worse than that they'd gone to bed proud, too proud to see that their fights never mattered. All that mattered was that they wanted to be together, no matter how hard Cal made it for that to be possible. Gillian was trying, she really was, but she could only take so much, and Cal was always Cal. Sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter, and always in love with Gillian.

_"Show me," Gillian said, demanding as Cal undressed her. "Show me how sorry you are."_

_He laid her down on the bed, not saying a word as he kissed her, his hand already in her panties. She closed her eyes and gave into him, caressing the back of his head when he kissed his way down and buried his face between her legs. He worked his mouth on her until she couldn't remember what their fight had been about, until she was shaking and calling out for him even though he was already there, as close as he could be without being inside of her._

Cal found Gillian in the kitchen, drinking their make up coffee, the morning after not having make up sex. The instant he saw her he lost his resolve to apologize. Something about the quiet way she sat there, not turning around, trying to ignore the problem even as she perpetuated it, stirred the stubborn side of him.

_He filled her completely, and she squeezed his waist with her legs while he dug his fingertips into the flesh of her thigh. Hurting each other through the pleasure had become part of the process of letting go, and they always cuddled like bunnies afterward. That particular night, though she hadn't demanded it, Cal made it his mission to make her come again, so that she'd never forget how sorry he was. She felt his fingertips, no longer digging into her leg but rubbing her somewhere else, and she held on lightly to his wrist until the feeling overtook her. Then her hand clamped onto his wrist and her body screamed at him while her voice merely cried in bleating moans. When she was done he really let himself go, pushing into her with such force she had to clutch at his back to keep herself from stopping him. _

Gillian could tell. Cal wanted to have sex like that now. He wanted to screw out their differences and make her forget why they'd been fighting, but she wasn't in the mood. She didn't want to forget just yet.

"I'll see you at work, okay?" she said, kind but firm. They slept together, but they didn't carpool yet. No one at the office knew about the new facet of their relationship. They would leave a few minutes apart, sometimes fifteen, taking slightly different routes so that no one would suspect. Cal thought it was pathetic, but that's what Gillian wanted. She had him on a string. He'd never had it so bad, not for anyone else.

_"I don't want to fight with you" Cal said, when he was spooning her afterward. He buried his face in her neck and kissed her there, and then lifted his head to rest his chin on her shoulder. "I don't ever want to fight with you."_

_Gillian pulled his arm tighter around her waist, and lifted her shoulder to give his face a hug. "I know." she replied quietly. Gillian turned her head to meet Cal's lips, and she kissed him gratefully. "Neither do I."_

_It was a wish, not a promise. They never wanted to, but they always ended up doing it anyway. _

Cal remained silent as Gillian rinsed her mug and put it in the sink. She'd be back later that night, and she'd wash the mug along with all the rest of the breakfast and dinner dishes. He let her leave, and he waited in the kitchen, wondering if they'd be okay, until he realized he hadn't showered yet. He was going to be late to the morning meeting, and he didn't even care. There was a voice inside his head, telling him she'd finally had enough, and he could have made everything okay if he'd just said _I'm sorry_ when he had the chance.

Ten minutes passed. He was still standing in the kitchen, and he heard the front door open. Gillian appeared, walking straight toward him just the way he'd daydreamed she would. She walked up to him, took his face in her hands and kissed him very sweetly on the lips. She looked into his eyes, saw the sadness in them, and kissed him again. She couldn't bring herself to drive away from his place without doing that. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, relieved when she felt his arms make their way around her waist. He sighed, relaxing physically against her as his mind relaxed into her forgiveness. "I love you." she whispered, squeezing him tighter. She hadn't forgotten last night's fight, but she was choosing to look past it, because she was that scared of losing him too.

_You're still not over him._

The sound of those words in Cal's accent still stirred anger in Gillian's heart, but she was stubborn too. She refused to entertain his belief, and she refused to let Cal push her away because of it.

_I'm with __you__ now._

She said it, and she believed it. Now why didn't _he _believe it?

"I love you too." Cal answered earnestly.

"I can't believe you haven't showered yet." Gillian said, pulling back, stroking his familiar and unshaven face. He chuckled quietly, cracking a small smile. She thought he looked exhausted, and she knew she'd been the cause of it. Their fight and their feelings and their beliefs had been the cause of it. "We're going to be late to that meeting." she said, as Cal took both of her hands in his. He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed them each.

"Staff meeting." Cal reminded her, looking into her eyes when he placed her hands back on his cheeks. "We run it. We can push it back."

Gillian smiled softly at him, and he saw her eyes getting wet. The way his heart melted when she did that, it coated the rest of his guts with warm, thick-blooded love and made him feel completely done with ever being angry with her again.

"Okay." she said, even softer than her smile. "I can wait, if you want. We can ride in together?"

He was tired, too tired to respond with the usual _But what would the children say? _She'd taken her hands back, and was standing there in front of him, waiting for the answer to a much bigger question.

_Is today the day we tell everyone? Is that what you need from me?_

It wasn't. He needed all of her, and a public announcement about their relationship wasn't going to make things any easier.

"Go on." he told her gently, releasing her to the normal routine of pretending nothing had changed. "Tell 'em I'm hung over." he added jokingly, so she would know he wasn't angry anymore. She smiled gratefully in response, and kissed him once more before leaving.

Cal watched her leave again, less desperate but still worried about their future together. Her guilt had brought her back. Her fear. They were so busy fearing what might happen that they weren't allowing themselves to enjoy what already was.

* * *

Cal's hope for a quiet work day hadn't quite come true, but the Lightman Group had certainly seen worse. He and Gillian managed to keep from bickering, and that was a plus. They'd had a good day together at the office, and it was a relief that led them into a pleasant dinner at Cal's place. He cooked for her, and they drank wine, and Cal cleared the table so Gillian could get started on the dishes as always.

There was one plate left, and Cal stood with it in hand, next to his kitchen table, just staring at Gillian from behind. He adored the shape of her, the sight of her in front of the sink, her presence in his home. There was something imperfect in the way her hair fell just above her shoulders that completed the overall perfection of her appearance. She'd worn dark jeans that day, with a dark blue blouse on top, and the whole package crushed Cal's heart with love.

He brought the plate to her, placing it on the counter as he came up behind her. "Thank you." she murmured, turning her head and smiling when she felt him there, his hands on her waist. She kept her hands under the water and turned back to the dishes, thinking she could get the rest of it done before what they were about to do took her over. His left hand traveled up her side, across her back, up to her neck, where he swept her hair upward, exposing a specific area of skin for him to kiss. She felt his lips on her, right where the soft hairs ended and bare skin began. The feeling shot down her spine, all the way down her right leg.

"I missed you." he said quietly.

They'd been together all day. She knew what he meant.

Gillian let out a soft sigh, and a quiet moan. "I missed you too."

He kissed her again. His mouth opened, and he pressed his tongue against her skin, letting his fingers tangle in her hair where he held it. The hand at her waist dragged over her clothing, moving down, hard and flat until he curled it around her, cupping her firmly between her legs.

Gillian dropped the plate she was holding, and the sponge fell next to it. Her hands gripped the edge of the sink, her back arching as a reflex. She pressed herself against him and he held her, rubbing her up and down and in circles until he got her throat to make one of those sexy sounds that drove him out of his mind. He made love to her neck with his mouth, and she reached up to hold the back of his head, grabbing a handful of his hair and squeezing so he'd feel it. She pushed herself away from the sink, and he pushed her toward it, so they stayed in the middle, feeling each other while the water continued to rush out of the faucet.

She made a more desperate sound, and she turned her head so she could kiss his mouth. Their kisses were sloppy, and wet, and Gillian moaned again into his mouth. Suddenly his hands were squeezing her breasts. Cal found her bra was in the way, and he needed to feel them, to feel her bare skin and her flesh in his hands. He reached up her shirt, pushing her bra up and out of the way in one motion, and he squeezed again and again, pushing them together and then letting them apart each time his hands relaxed.

She'd melted completely into him. His first soft kiss had turned her on and now she wanted him more than the air she was breathing.

"Take me to bed." she said between kisses, twisting in place so she could face him and push her tongue back in his mouth when they wrapped their arms around each other. They kissed, and for a while he had her pinned against the sink because he couldn't let her go even for a second. It lasted until she reached behind herself to turn the water off. "Come with me." she said, touching his face. She broke away, and she unbuttoned her shirt as she walked toward his bedroom. She looked over her shoulder to see him standing there, just watching her go.

He couldn't help it. Those mental snapshots he took, moments where he was just watching her, were what got him through the day. He saw her eyes for a second before she rounded the corner. He could see in her quick glance not only intense arousal but also a great amount of relief. He never understood that look of relief. As if he'd ever not want to do this with her.

Cal entered the bedroom with his shirt off, and found her tossing her jeans away. She was down to her panties, which Cal got off of her before she'd fully laid down on the bed. She was on her back, touching his shoulders while he stripped the rest of his clothing off, breathing heavy because he was going to be inside her and she just couldn't wait.

"Do you know how much I love you?" Cal asked Gillian, his best friend and now his lover, as he laid down on top of her. She felt his whole body at once, so warm against hers, and she wrapped her arms and legs around his torso. She wanted him closer than just touching, closer than pressing or squeezing, but he resisted with his upper body, trying to look at her face.

"Cal." she murmured, still trying to hide her feelings. There were times, still, when she couldn't stand being read. It was too much, especially when she was trying to forget the fight they'd had last night. He wouldn't give up. She surrounded his waist with her thighs, they were squeezed tight together there, but he wouldn't cover her completely. She quit trying to hug him close enough to prevent him from seeing her face, instead reaching her hands up to cover his eyes. It was a playful gesture. Cal took her wrists in his hands before she could make contact, and placed them down gently beside her head. He didn't restrain her; he flattened his palms, laced their fingers, and she clasped their hands together as she finally faced him for one last _Are we going to be okay?_'

"Do you know how much I love you?" He repeated, insisting, just as serious the second time. He didn't want her to know - he _needed _her to know, and Gillian could feel that. So she relented. She nodded, feeling every last bit of that love when she answered his question.

"I love you just as much." she said. She let him in, and she poured everything she had out of her eyes and into his. In the end, she was so happy she did - because that time, he finally believed her.

They made love for hours after that, exhausting themselves on each other because life was too short to get proper amounts of sleep when they were having a good time of it. They'd made a major breakthrough. Gillian would never use such a term to describe the progression of their relationship - not when she knew Cal would tease her endlessly for it - but she knew in her heart things had changed for the better for them. He did things to her body that she would not be able to erase from her mind. That night they loved each other so hard and so long, she truly believed everything would work out between them.

When they finally came to rest, when every part of Cal and every part of Gillian felt thoroughly loved over, they cuddled like they always did, exhausted but unable to get to sleep just yet.

"So what _is_ the difference, then?" Cal asked as they settled, naked Gillian curled up on her side and naked Cal curled up close behind her. He held her tight around the waist, and his lips found the nape of her neck again.

"Cuddling includes kissing, and touching..." Gillian explained, smiling as Cal went on demonstrating both on her body. "And snuggling is just..."

He squeezed her, and she closed her eyes and smiled wider.

"Laying, and maybe...holding."

He demonstrated all of it at the same time, failing to prove her right _or _wrong. It didn't matter what she said. When they were happy, Gillian was always right.

"I think you made that up on the spot." Cal teased her anyway, because he loved the sound of her voice and wanted to hear her deny it. He pressed his face into her neck, and she yawned and pulled his hand up higher to cover her heart.

"I think we should get some sleep." Gillian murmured. He felt her body rest, and she felt his body still wide awake behind her. "I love you." she said, her tired murmur warmer to him than the blankets that covered them. Calmly, tenderly, Cal perched his chin on Gillian's shoulder, and gave her cheek the last kiss of the night.

"I love you." he said, not closing his eyes until he could hear and feel her even breath.

* * *

Across the street, parked outside Cal's house, was an economy rental car that had followed Gillian from the moment she left the Lightman Group offices. The driver had tailed her there, to Cal's address, and had been waiting outside for her to leave ever since. He'd waited all evening, and he was going to wait all night. At three in the morning, the driver realized she was going to spend the night. He realized she was probably in Cal's bed, probably naked, probably fucking Cal and loving Cal and being fucked and loved by Cal as well.

It would have broken the man's heart, if he'd had one left to break. He'd left his heart in DC twelve months ago, and now he was back, to claim what little of it he could find. In the shadows on Cal's street, in the parked rental, Dave leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He imagined a Sunday together with Gillian, and the anger he was feeling went away for a blissful moment. When he opened his eyes, he didn't see what was outside the windshield. He saw the rest of the night stretching out in front of him. He saw himself not sleeping, and he saw himself waiting there until both she and Cal left for work the next morning.

The lawyers were going to blow a gasket knowing he'd snuck out of his secure, guarded hotel room just to see a woman he'd dated during a previous case. He couldn't help himself. He had to see her, even if the closest he could get was fifty feet away.

He had a feeling she and Cal were fucking now. He had a feeling it was serious between them. And he had a strong feeling that he wouldn't be able to remain invisible to her for much longer. Even if it was just to say he was sorry, he would have to talk to her. Just once.

The lights in Cal's house had been off for a few hours. There was no activity in the house. The jealousy began to surface again, and Dave closed his eyes. In his fantasy, he was the man between Gillian's legs. In his fantasy, they had a long talk and she decided she wanted to be with him again. In his fantasy, there was no trial that needed his testimony, and he'd never been kidnapped and sent away in the first place. In his fantasy there was no Cal. Only Dave and Gillian, alone together.

Reality was sleeping soundly in Cal's bed. They were curled up together under a heavy blanket, tangled in each other's arms, safe for at least another day.


	5. Bad Magic

_A/N - Warning: this fluffy Callian donut has been decorated with poisoned Dave sprinkles. Eat at your own risk! But remember: it's the Cal version of the story, so just let the angsty poison run its course...you'll be fine around chapter 7, which, according to my super fancy concrete plan (read: i'm wingin' it), will be the last chapter. _

* * *

Cal woke first the next morning. He laid on his side and watched Gillian open her eyes when her phone alarm went off for a second time. When she felt the ache of staying up too late, and of making love for a little too long, she closed her eyes again and wished for three more hours in bed.

"Shit." she groaned. The price of belated make-up sex.

"I love waking up next to you." Cal said quietly. She blinked and smiled very softly. "You swear like a sailor when you're sleepy." he explained. She chuckled, almost silently, and rewarded him with another.

"Fuck." she whispered, and her tone was quite suggestive.

"Don't mind if I do." Cal said happily, moving over her and kissing her neck as if it were really an option. Gillian grinned and hugged his body. She loved waking up next to him, too. Especially when it was like this. His hands were everywhere, but she hesitated. Cal sensed her resistance to his playful pawing, but he didn't let it stop him.

"We could go in late." Cal murmured his suggestion against her skin.

On her back, she stared at the ceiling, smiling as she felt his tongue sneak out to join the kisses. "Again?" she replied. "People are already beginning to suspect."

"They know who signs the paychecks. We don't have to tell them anything we don't want to."

"..._Do _you want to?"

Cal paused the devouring of Gillian's neck and lifted his head so he could look at her. All this time he'd been wanting to shout it from the rooftop, but for some reason it made him feel funny when the idea came from her.

"That's twice you've asked me now, in two days." he pointed out.

"I must be serious about it." she replied.

Cal leaned on his elbow, not on top of her but not abandoning her completely either. His hand still rested on her waist, on her hip bone, fingers sneaking under the hem of her shirt so he could feel the warm skin there.

"Alright..." he said slowly, thinking of all the ways they could announce their relationship. "We could shag in the Cube, put it on the live feed. It could be the new viral marketing campaign for the Lightman Group. Oh! And it could double as a test - which one of us is faking our orgasm?"

Gillian smirked at the salacious eyebrow raise that accompanied his last idea. "Neither." she said, as she put her arms around his neck.

"Clever girl..." Cal murmured, moving closer, covering her with his body again. He kissed her lips. "That's why you're in charge, and they're not allowed to ask questions."

He kissed her lips again, and then her jaw line, and then her neck. He couldn't help but sense a bit of sarcasm in her chuckling laughter. "I'm only in charge when you want a quickie." she said, voice changed now that he was pulling the top of her t-shirt down, kissing and licking her collarbone. The pitch of her voice was low, and he knew the quickie was already being offered. He began to take off her clothes, and she didn't resist.

"Yeah?" Cal said quietly. Gillian began to undress him too, starting with his t-shirt.

"Yeah." she said quietly, and she let him have his quickie. It was either that, or have eye sex all day at the office. It was safer for their cover to have it now.

* * *

Another work day passed, not as pleasant as the previous one, but still nothing they could complain about. Neither of them breathed a word of their relationship to anyone, and that was just fine. It wasn't the right time, and Gillian wondered if it ever would be. Maybe they'd end up shagging in the Cube after all.

They didn't know it, but Ria was beginning to notice a change in their behavior. Her first hint was that Cal didn't seem as focused as he usually did. She didn't know why - she had no way of knowing he'd been emotionally completed for the first time in his life - but he also seemed less frustrated. Ria told herself it was the light caseload and tried not to think about it anymore. He always noticed when she stared at him too long.

They were standing very close to one another in front of Cal's desk when Emily walked into Cal's office at the end of the day. Gillian noticed Emily's entrance right away, and tried to distance herself from Cal.

"I'll see you there." she said quietly, on her way out.

Cal leaned in to kiss Gillian, and she all but recoiled. An awkward moment ensued, but the Lightmans tried to put her at ease.

"She knows, Gill." Cal teased her. "We've had sleepovers."

"I know," said Gillian, glancing at Emily from the corner of her eye. "It's just..."

"It's cool." Emily assured her, as laid back as she could make herself sound. "I am not uncomfortable in the least. I love you two together. You're pretty much the cutest couple ever."

"Our number one fan." said Cal, still looking at Gillian as he gestured toward his daughter. Gillian smiled deeply, grateful and sheepish, at Emily, as she placed a hand lightly on Cal's chest.

"I'll see you soon." she said to Cal.

As she walked out, Emily reached out to her, making a soft sound. "Hug." she said simply. Gillian was more than happy to oblige. With another sheepish smile, this one so deep it made Cal's heart ache, Gillian put her arms around his daughter, and his daughter hugged her back.

"We will miss you tonight." Gillian insisted as she released her. Emily smiled, at her comment and at the way Gillian gave her forearm a light squeeze before she went. Cal and Emily watched her go, and Emily turned to her father before the telltale look on his face had time to fade.

"You're a very lucky man." Emily teased him.

"I'm reminded every day." Cal replied. He walked back around his desk to sit down.

"Things seem...better." said Emily, taking aimless steps as her father wrapped up his work for the day. "Than last week."

Cal looked at her, surprised that she'd noticed. He thought they hid it so well.

"You know," Emily continued casually, as subtle as a sneeze. "If you didn't have to drive me to Mom's house, you could just go home with Gillian now. You should really just give me my car keys back."

"You want your keys?" Cal asked her, much better at feigning innocence than his darling daughter. "Of course," he said. "No problem. Just hand over the phone."

"This isn't about me, Dad. This is about Gillian."

"She'll be there waiting for me when I get home, Em. But you'll run someone over if I give you the keys when you still have a texting machine in your hands."

"That's not funny."

"Precisely my point, dear."

"Did you just call me a deer?" Emily asked, eyes narrowing.

"What if I did?"

"I was just trying to change the subject."

"Yeah, I noticed."

Outside Cal's office, Gillian was looking through her purse for her own car keys, using that as an excuse to linger. She loved listening to them together, and she almost wished Emily was staying with them tonight.

Almost. Things _were_ a lot better than last week and, as a way to keep celebrating, they were going to open another bottle of wine, and take the night very slow.

That was the plan, anyway. Gillian was lost in those thoughts on her way to her car. Cal wasn't the only one who'd lost a bit of focus. She wasn't aware of the presence next to her vehicle until she was very close. In her peripheral vision she sensed more than saw the figure standing on the opposite side of the car, his hands in his pockets as he stood and waited for her to notice. Her heart almost burst from a rush of adrenaline, and her entire body tensed until she realized who it was. He watched her brain process something it couldn't quite believe, and he smiled faintly, patiently - lovingly - as she worked through the impossible details.

Dave Burns, in the Lightman Group parking lot. Dave Burns in DC. Dave Burns anywhere near Gillian Foster, after everything that had happened and all the time she's spent trying to forget.

"I'm sorry to come to you like this." he said.

His voice, after not hearing it for so long, gave her shivers all the way down her spine.

"But I had to see you."

* * *

Cal brought Emily to Zoe's. He stayed in the car, watched her go up the walk, and waited. Cal knew Zoe would take it personally that he'd failed to at least say hello, but he didn't care. It was a two-fold waste of time, with Gillian waiting at home for him and Zoe's new live-in boyfriend lurking somewhere in the house. Emily turned and waved before she finished unlocking the door. Cal waved back, and took off toward his home.

When he arrived there, an unfortunately familiar feeling began to nag at him immediately. Gillian's car was nowhere to be seen. Worst case scenarios began to pile up in his mind. They came as fast as his skeptical side could sweep them away. _Who have you pissed off lately? _was his first question, even before _Where else could she be?_

He texted her as he walked in. She should have beaten him home by at least an hour.

_Should I be worried? _

She knew what to reply with if something was wrong, and how to respond if everything was all right. Maybe she'd gone to the store, to get something for dinner? Cal laid down on his couch and held his phone to his chest, waiting. Moments later, the phone buzzed. The moment of truth.

_I'm not at Starbucks - _

That was the code. She was fine, but the rest that followed didn't make any sense to him.

_- I can't come over right now. I'll talk to you in the morning._

"Like hell..." Cal muttered as he finished reading it. He called her immediately, daring her to dismiss him directly. She answered after the first ring.

"Cal." she said.

"Where are you?" he asked flatly, all business and no fucking around.

"I'm still in the parking lot at work."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Gillian said, sounding very perturbed, almost resigned, as if she'd known this conversation was inevitable and she wasn't ready to have it yet. "I just..."

A few painful seconds of being left in the dark felt like eternity. They weren't supposed to have secrets anymore. Two seconds' hesitation and Cal felt like he was alone in the universe.

"Gillian." Cal said, cradling her with his tone and surprising himself with how soft it was. He should have been angry, but she had that power over him. He heard a car door open, as Gillian exited her vehicle, and he heard the car door close and heels on pavement as she took a few steps away. He was afraid of what it would mean if she'd been sitting there alone that whole time, but more afraid of who would be in there with her if she was not alone. He never would have guessed the truth. He needed her to tell him.

"Dave came to see me." she said abruptly, her voice reaching out to slap him through the phone.

Stunned silent, Cal had no reply. Gillian had nothing yet to add, so she let the silence grow. Eventually Cal felt the need to say something, if only to keep her on the line.

"You're going to have to repeat that." he said. "In a language I'll understand."

Gillian took a deep breath. She hadn't quite processed the information herself. "Remember the news vans in front of the courthouse?" she asked.

"He's in town for the circus?"

"He's right in the middle of it."

"He's testifying." Cal guessed correctly.

"Yes." she said, knowing he could fill in most of the blanks himself. He proved it by not asking any more questions. Not about Dave. Their thin ice was cracking and the universe had just dropped a semi onto its surface.

"I need to see you, Gill. Please. Come home."

She had to close her eyes and steel herself against that plea. He was asking her to choose. Just like that.

"He can't meet during the day." said Gillian, rationalizing like the professional she was. "He doesn't know if he'll be able to sneak out again. I need to have this talk with him now."

A million reasons why she didn't need to have any talks with him at all rushed into Cal's mouth but he couldn't choose just one, not quick enough. It allowed for another moment of awkward silence over the phone, after which Gillian softly added, "We're just talking, Cal."

It knocked the wind out of him. Why did she have to put it that way?

* * *

Dave sat in the passenger seat of Gillian's car, watching and waiting, reading her lips when he could see her in profile, and wondering when her back was turned. After a few minutes of what looked like earnest pleading, she lowered the phone and ended the call. She had to take a moment before getting back into the car. She closed the driver side door behind her and leaned back in her seat, staring straight ahead and out into the night. She was stuck now. She wasn't supposed to be there. Dave wasn't supposed to be there. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, but she couldn't just leave.

All the reunions she'd imagined had been so perfect and tender. But, back when she'd allowed herself to imagine them, she hadn't been with Cal. What she had with Cal was still fragile, and she realized now how in denial she'd been about that. She'd made a choice, when Cal begged her to come home and she'd said no. She still had unfinished business, something unresolved in her life that didn't - couldn't - involve Cal. She knew this could be her only chance to resolve it, but Dave wasn't making it easy either. He was different, not quite the way she remembered him. There was an edge to him that he hadn't given her access to before. Confrontation. He should have been happier to see her.

"He calls you after work now?" Dave asked, suggestive, as if he didn't already know. He wanted to hear her say it. He wanted her to tell him, so he could see how much it troubled her, if at all, to say it to him out loud.

"You don't get to ask those questions anymore." she said, picking up their serious conversation where they'd left off, when she received Cal's phone call. Dave was acting as if they were still supposed to be together. As if she was supposed to have waited for him that whole time. The most frustrating part was that she almost had. She'd been living her life like a ghost, until the passion she found with Cal brought her back to life. And now that she'd finally decided to move on, like magic Dave appeared. As if he'd been waiting for the absolute worst moment - when everything finally seemed perfect with Cal.

* * *

Cal spent the night on his couch, eyes wide open and imagination going places he'd tried so hard to forget. He left his phone there on his chest, but he made no attempts to call her back. She'd made up her mind, and she'd asked him for this. She'd asked him to remember what she'd gone through, and to recognize how much she needed closure on this past affair.  
Closure on the past.

_The past._

Cal spent the night awake, worrying about Gillian's safety and wondering what their future could be if one conversation didn't resolve the past the way she wanted it to.

_I'm over him. _her voice echoed.

_Then why are you sitting huddled in a car with the stupid bastard, instead of at home with me? _he wanted to yell, but the phone was on his chest, and the line was closed. He wouldn't see her until the morning. He wasn't sure if he'd survive wondering that long.

* * *

_To be continued. _

_It's going to get worse before it gets better... _


	6. We All Make Our Choices

Gillian stared out at the night from behind the wheel of her car. It was three in the morning and they were still sitting there, talking. The minutes crept by and she began to feel each and every one, all of them being spent while Cal worried and wondered about what she was doing.

And what was she doing? Having a conversation? Was this closure, or were they just dredging up the past? It was three in the morning, and all they'd established was that life had really sucked for a while, for both of them, and that it still sucked for Dave. He'd made it clear he was not over her, that thinking about their relationship was all that kept him alive when his job took all its dangerous turns. The thought made her chuckle.

"I used to daydream that you were dead." she said, since nothing they said to each other could make what happened any more painful than it already was. Now was the time to lay everything out, every word they'd been unable to share while separated. Gillian took a deep breath, and she looked to her right. Dave was watching her, unable to take his eyes away even in the painful moments.

"So I wouldn't have to worry about you anymore." said Gillian.

"I'm sorry." said Dave, like he'd said a million times already.

Gillian shook her head, _No._ They were both sorry, for lots of things. And maybe Gillian was being too harsh; she'd had her chances to leave him, to get out, knowing that their time of playing house would be over the moment his assignment changed. Then again, there'd always been that casual talk of retiring, of Dave getting out instead, and the comfortable denial that blanketed everything they did together - Dave would never leave, Dave would never get hurt, Dave would stay at the juvenile correctional facility and things would stay perfect forever. That had been their plan, to wait for perfection to play itself out without any work on either of their parts. They'd been foolish to believe it would work, but they'd both contributed to that fantasy.

Gillian shook her head no, because she didn't want to blame him. She'd loved him, and she didn't _want _to blame him, but the pain was surfacing and it made her angry. Now she realized that she _did _blame him. She'd let go of saying _why did you leave me_, and now it was replaced with _why did you have to come back?_

Gillian shook her head no, because she was certain Dave had not returned for the truth, or for her honesty. He wanted her to fall back into his arms and maybe make love one more time for old time's sake. Except it wouldn't be making love; it would be fucking, because Gillian was with Cal and Dave was still under witness protection. What a sudden fucking mess he'd made.

Gillian went back to staring through the windshield, because looking at Dave made her heart weak. She could still feel his gaze, she could feel the way his body sat comfortably in the passenger seat of her car, familiar and yet very far away from the memory of sitting there before. It was different. She wouldn't look over at him and smile.

"I was sleepwalking for months after you left." said Gillian. She frowned involuntarily, and she quelled that urge to cry. "I didn't go out. I thought my life was over. And then I convinced myself that you were never coming back. I had to, to move on."

"I tried." said Dave, shaking his head because even he couldn't believe how strong his feelings still were for her. "I tried to convince myself-"

"I succeeded." said Gillian. She interrupted him mid-sentence and with a look she released some of the anger she was so afraid to admit was even real. She was angry, because having no contact with Dave after being left behind was the only good thing that had come of the situation. Now she imagined receiving a letter or a phone call as she'd always wished, and she realized how much worse it would have made things, how much worse Dave's return made it now. She felt tears coming, like needles prickling her eyes and cheeks.

"It took me so long, but I was finally okay being without you."

The tears came, and she turned from him. His gaze also drifted, when the physical manifestation of her pain became too much to maintain his steady watch. He hadn't expected her to be this upset. Angry and hot for him he could have accepted. Even if she had been completely over him, he could have accepted it if she'd been at peace, but she was closed to him and uncomfortable with his presence. The worst from both sides.

He looked away and he felt an emptiness around him in the space that Gillian's body used to occupy. She used to laugh and cry in his arms, and now she turned from him. That was his pain, and that's what made him angry. She had somebody else.

"You had him." he said callously.

"No." Gillian said forcefully, her voice finding strength in renewed anger. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked at Dave, because he needed to understand this little detail. "I didn't have Cal. I didn't have him until _after _I was over you. He couldn't stand to be around me after you left, because he knew. He _knew _I had given myself to you completely, and that we would have stayed together if you hadn't gone away. It tortured him to know that. That even though you were gone you still had me, for all that time." Gillian paused her tirade to wipe fresh tears from her cheeks, and she turned from him again. "So don't bring him into this." she added, with less conviction than before. She still meant it.

"He's pissed, isn't he?" asked Dave, as if he wasn't sure. "That you're here right now?"

"Wouldn't you be?" said Gillian.

"I _was_." said Dave, reminding them both of all those times he'd remained quiet while Cal teased them, every time she answered one of his calls. A shot of ice joined the blood in Gillian's veins, cooling what had just been hot with emotion. Maybe things hadn't been so perfect after all.

"You know why Cal's pissed?" Dave said, suddenly leaning forward.

Gillian anchored her gaze on the steering wheel, steeling herself against the confrontation. Against the depth of his voice.

"He knows there's a part of you that still wonders what could happen between the two of us. That part might be small right now. You might have shoved it down so deep inside of you that you can't feel it anymore, but it's there. That's why you're sitting here with me, instead of in his bed. You chose _me _this time."

"'This time'?" Gillian said, finding her footing right in his strong implication. She found her tears were dry from anger, and she could look him in the eye again. "I _always _chose you. To my detriment, I chose you. And look where that got me. I pushed my best friend away to keep you happy - to keep _us_ happy - because I knew that's what it would take to keep us together."

She thought about Cal, about how long he'd waited, about how much worse he could have been to Dave. How Cal had been there for her the day Dave left without saying goodbye.

"We barely talked for four months." she said, of herself and Cal. "And that was _after _you left."

"I'm sorry." he said, adding to the ever-growing pile. The bigger it got the less she felt it. "I'm sorry I left you." he corrected himself, since he didn't feel sorry for Cal at all.

Gillian nodded. She may have let a few tears slip but she maintained a tight control on her emotions. "Well." she said, icier than before. "We all make our choices."

Dave was quiet as he digested that statement, another punch to his gut.

"Do you think I chose my job over you?"

Gillian shook her head, but the word no did not come out of her mouth. It was only more lamentation, regret that they were even starting down this road. None of it should have mattered anymore, because moving on meant complete forgiveness. But Dave hadn't moved on, and that prevented Gillian's forgiveness.

"Do you think I could have played it any differently?" Dave asked, poking her right where it hurt the most. "Don't you know I would have stayed if I thought it was safe for you?"

"You left for me?" Gillian asked incredulously.

"To protect you." Dave corrected her.

"You left to protect that case." said Gillian. "You told me I wasn't part of your cover, but you left me. You discarded me. Like garbage. I felt like your garbage that you could just throw away. And even after that, I still loved you."

There were those tears again. Anger coursed through her. She'd felt like garbage for so long and she'd never said it out loud before, not to anyone. She hadn't believed it until that very moment, but wasn't it the truth? Cover blown, get out of town as soon as possible, lose everything in the process. That was the procedure, and he'd followed it to the letter without hesitation.

Dave didn't see it that way. They'd gotten so far off track. This was not the way he'd imagined their reunion, not at all.

"I love you." he said. It was so simple, and so beside the point. It was all he had left in the world, and the only thing he had left to give to her.

"I have to go now." said Gillian. She shifted in her seat and put her hands on the steering wheel, as if she was waiting for him to get out before turning the key in the ignition.

"Gillian." said Dave. She made the mistake of looking at him again. He was so close. His left hand was on the back of her seat and he was so close. Gillian looked at his mouth. She'd dreamed of those lips. She'd used that mouth in every fantasy. It used to say all the right things. Now all it said were all the things she didn't want to hear.

"Please go." she whispered. With his right hand he reached for her. He cupped her cheek in his palm, the first time he'd touched her since that day in the hospital. A sudden heat joined the cold inside of her, like his touch had broken through all the ice. The flood of memories continued, not just of their relationship but the time they'd spent apart. She'd imagined meetings just like this, sneaking around just like this, hiding from the world just like this, in a car at night when it was just the two of them and Dave made a special trip just to see her. Those fantasies could never come true, not now that she and Cal were together. Gillian knew this, but she didn't move as Dave leaned closer to her. He was too close to look in the eye. She could only see his lips and she knew he wanted to kiss her. He _needed _to kiss her. Maybe that was the only reason he came to see her. He already knew about Gillian and Cal. He'd seen their relationship as an inevitability even when he was still with her. He didn't want closure, he just wanted her back, and it didn't make any sense because he was still technically undercover as someone else with no hopes of ever safely returning to DC, and Gillian would still be in love with Cal no matter what he said or did.

And none of that mattered, because he _needed_ to kiss her.

Their lips touched, and it was wrong. She felt his hand in her hair, she heard his body shifting in his seat to get closer to her, and it was wrong. She couldn't wrap her brain around how bad it felt, to have wanted something for so long and only get it once the desire was gone. His lips still felt good - if things had been different they would have already been naked and fucking - but there were barriers now that Gillian needed to keep up, to maintain her honor, for Cal and for herself. Still, she didn't move. She didn't push him away. Things had already gone too far, but she didn't push him away.

Dave kissed her, softly at first, testing the mirage. She was real. They were really kissing now. So he kissed her harder, pushing closer, pressing her against the headrest of the seat in her car.

It didn't feel right, but Gillian found that wasn't reason enough not to kiss him back. Suddenly their lips parted for each other, and Gillian fisted both hands on the front of Dave's jacket, and she was making a sound she was only supposed to make with Cal now. A whimper, desperate, caught between their mouths as their tongues met and heads tilted to make room for noses as they pressed their faces against one another. Where was her anger now? This was her Dave, her Dave had come back for her and she wasn't allowed to have him anymore. It wasn't fair.

And it wasn't fair to Cal.

As suddenly as the passion returned, Gillian remembered the rest of herself and the kiss felt too wrong to continue. The whimper turned deadly and uncomfortable, and Gillian pulled her mouth away and bowed her head.

"No." her voice warbled, pushing her fists against his chest. Dave tried to kiss her again but she turned her head. "No." she said louder. The force she was using to push him away told him she really meant it and he backed off completely, sitting back in his seat in some sort of heartache-induced shock. Gillian, whose eyes had filled with tears while his tongue was still in her mouth, snuck a glance at him and saw that his eyes were wet too. He was looking straight ahead, overcome.

Even on the day he thought he was going to die, he hadn't shed a tear. He was coming close now.

"I have to go." Gillian said, not knowing what else to do but get as far away from this as possible.

Dave choked his emotion back by sheer will, and he swallowed hard. "I'm gonna come back here tomorrow night." he said. "And it might be the last time we ever see each other. Or maybe-"

Dave swallowed again. He didn't even know.

"Maybe it's not the last time." he said, improvising. "Maybe I can leave again. Take you with me this time."

Gillian's heart dropped into her shoes, onto the pavement below the car. It was another thing she'd allowed herself to fantasize about, running away with him to someplace else. Dave fantasized about it too, but he'd never seriously considered it an option until that moment, after tasting her mouth again, after being so close again and then being denied.

Dave had learned his lesson about losing her but it was far, far too late.

"I can't." Gillian said as she began to cry. Of course she couldn't leave; she had a life there, and with Cal it was turning into a pretty damn good one. What she really meant was that she couldn't even discuss the idea of leaving it all behind, it was too frighteningly absurd when faced with the real possibility.

"I know you're saying that now," said Dave, sounding desperate. "But I'll be back tomorrow night. Just think about it, Gill. Promise me you'll think about it."

Gillian shook her head and cried harder. She wouldn't promise him a thing. She couldn't. But they both knew she'd be thinking about it all day anyway. With her hands covering her face, Gillian heard the passenger side door open and shut. She looked up, to see where he was headed, to see what car he got into, to get some tiny clue as to where he was going. He just kept walking away, in and out of the light of street lamps until she couldn't see him anymore.

Gillian cried until she couldn't breathe. Then she drove home, and for the first time in a very long while, she spent the night alone in her own bed, hiding under the covers and wishing she'd never met Dave Burns at all.

* * *

Sharon Wallowski found Cal in his office the next morning. He was seated at his desk, leaned forward with his forehead cradled in his palms. He looked up without moving his head when he heard her footsteps.

"Oh." he said, grimacing at the sight of her. "That's...bloody spectacular."

"You look like shit." said Wallowski, on a hunch, before she was even close enough to know for sure.

Cal continued to grimace, disgusted by her honesty. He would have said the same thing if he were in her position, but the lack of sleep made him grumpy enough to judge. Wallowski felt a small pang of guilt when that look hit her. His appearance, the obvious lack of sleep, was about something very personal, not about a tough case as she'd first assumed. She'd never apologize - he would give her much worse - but she didn't continue with the sarcastic remarks either. It would only make him more difficult to deal with anyway.

"Do you have anything interesting to say?" Cal asked her.

"I've got a legitimate case that the department's willing to pay you for." she replied matter-of-factly. Wallowski raised her eyebrows and waited for Cal to respond in the positive. His response, though non-verbal, was _So what?_

"I know I owe you one." Wallowski began to complain. "I thought you'd appreciate me returning a favor here..."

Cal had a few choice words for that assumption, but he was interrupted when Anna appeared in the doorway. She'd hurried.

"You wanted to know when Dr. Foster was in?" the receptionist said politely. Cal nodded, and Anna went on her way.

"Wait here." he said to Wallowski, as he stood and walked around his desk.

He found her in the hallway, not even to her office yet.

"Dr. Foster?" Cal said as he strode with clear purpose. She turned at the sound of his voice, and he could see that talking to him was the last thing she wanted to do in that moment. "A word?" he said, making it seem like Gillian was an intern he needed to scold. That did not make the conversation any more inviting.

Gillian huffed as Cal took hold of her arm. She only moved with him to keep from being led to her own office, and she only pulled gently out of his grip so that no one else would notice things were getting tense.

"Cal." she said harshly, when they were in her office and the door was closed. In a single syllable he heard every other word she wanted to snap at him. He was too worked up to back down.

"You mind telling me what the hell happened last night?" he asked her. "Or should I continue using my imagination?"

"We talked, Cal."

"And then what?"

"We just. Talked."

"You saying those words doesn't change what's on your face."

"I'm exhausted." Gillian admonished him.

"So am I." Cal shot back. "I didn't sleep last night."

Cal waited for a response. He was staring at her, watching for the slightest twitch, but Gillian was staring right back and she wouldn't give anything away for free. She was daring him to question her about this, to take back what he'd said about trusting her. _It's my business!_ her eyes screamed at him. _I love you, it's my business too!_ he shouted back. They held it in out of respect for each other, but Gillian didn't understand why Cal couldn't let her have this one thing to herself, and Cal didn't understand why Gillian needed that in the first place.

"Two days ago," said Cal, his voice low and controlled. "You tell me you're with me now. That nothing could break us apart. And then Dave comes into the picture and I'm spending the night alone for the first time in months. Tell me how I'm supposed to feel about that. Tell me how I'm not supposed to be torn apart by the jealousy."

Gillian held everything in while he was speaking. She held it all in and let it build up because she didn't want to snap at him. None of this was his fault. He deserved an explanation, but she knew how he was. She knew too well. She tried to back down but the way he spoke about these things, for some reason caused her to resist taking the easy route.

"I'm still with you." Gillian tried to reassure him, though the words came out prickly. "But there was so much left unresolved-"

"He wants you back."

"Cal-"

"You want him back too?"

"Stop putting words in my mouth." Gillian snapped.

"It's the actions, love." said Cal. "They speak louder and they're something I can't control no matter how much I wish I could."

"What happened with Dave happened, Cal. I can't change that. I can never change what happened."

She was beginning to tear up, and her voice was following that shaken route. Cal could feel himself backing down. Her tears always turned him to mush, and he'd promised so many times that he'd never be the cause of them, ever again. Yet here he was, pressing her emotional buttons and making her cry.

"And maybe I'm not over what happened." Gillian admitted. "Maybe it still hurts. Maybe I still think about what would have happened and where I'd be right now if he'd never left. I stayed in that car last night because no matter how much you wish it was some other way, me being with Dave had nothing to do with you. _Nothing_."

Cal could hear the rest of the conversation play out in his head.

_Just like you being with her, and her, and her had nothing to do with me.  
__But it did, Gill. In a way it had everything to do with you.  
__I don't ask you about Zoe.  
__That's different.  
__Of course it is. It's always different._

It played out differently in real life.

"The beauty of that, Cal? Is that me being with you has nothing to do with him."

Cal made a little wish in the moment that followed Gillian's statement. He wished Gillian's conviction, the fact that she believed what she said, was enough.

"That just means we're separate." said Cal, pointing out the truth as was his nature. He did so gently, because he had a hunch she was too busy hurting to see it from that point of view. "You didn't have the choice before. When he was gone."

The realization hit her hard, and it bounced back onto Cal. The way she looked at him, as if she understood what he meant too well to be defensive, it hurt them both.

"I don't see it as a choice." said Gillian, as gently as he'd spoken to her. They looked at each other, as the wheels of the conversation slowly stopped spinning on their own. There were only so many times she could say that to Cal. They weren't even angry anymore. Just sad that they were fighting again.

"I love you." said Gillian. "And there's no future for me with Dave-"

Cal almost interrupted her, but Gillian raised her voice and pressed on.

"Even if I wanted one. Which I _don't._"

"You better make sure that's true, Gillian. 'Cause you're going to have to face it if it isn't. We'll both have to face it."

Fear jolted Gillian, from certainty to confusion. Cal seemed way too willing to believe that Gillian leaving him was a possibility.

Crestfallen that he didn't believe her, Gillian excused herself from the conversation. All the time and energy she spent being sure, and he was trying to take that from her. She needed space, more time to cry, more time to think. She was going to go to the bathroom, to gather herself and splash water on her face - which, she suspected, looked horrendous due to the sleepless, sobbing night she'd spent alone. Cal hesitated for a second - she walked away abruptly - before following her out of the office.

"Gill." he said, intending to comfort her, to offer a shoulder instead of the judgmental eye. She'd stopped in the hallway, staring down the end of it, and Cal stopped in front of her. He saw her looking over his shoulder, and her expression changed from one of determination to utter disgust. She hadn't the control to hide it at the moment. With a sickening lurch of his stomach, Cal realized what she must be seeing. He looked over his shoulder, and saw Wallowski standing at the end of the hall, right outside his office. When he turned back to Gillian, she was staring at him in utter disbelief.

"Seriously?" she said, all but spitting bile on the hallway floor.

"She's here for business." he said immediately. The fact that he knew there was damage control to be done only made it worse. Wallowski was on the list of unallowed guests there at the Lightman Group. As difficult as it had been for Gillian to admit she had a deep, personal _thing_ against Wallowski, it had been easy for Cal to agree to a ban on her presence. _Nothing but trouble_. he'd agreed. Anything for his girl. Though it wasn't like he'd fallen hopelessly in love with Wallowski and pined for a year after being cruelly abandoned...

"She's here for business!" he repeated, his anger returning as Gillian's remained fully intact.

"You take care of that business." Gillian said coldly as she backed away. "I'll take care of mine."

"Gill!" Cal called to her, his feet planted. He watched her turn and walk away. "Shit." he hissed, turning and looking back at Wallowski with murder in his eyes.

"What was that about?" Wallowski asked as he approached.

"I told you to stay put." he said. He passed her, went into his office, toward his desk.

"I'm not your dog." she replied, her patience with Cal unnaturally thin.

"Then why do you keep showing up on my doorstep, begging for scraps?" Cal asked as he sat at his desk.

"Two people are dead." Wallowski said plainly. "I thought you might give a shit."

Cal slouched, crossed his ankles and folded his hands in his lap. And then he stared at her. He stared until she smirked. He was only this much of an uncontrollable asshole - a mean one, without the undertone of humor - when he was truly bothered by something.

"Trouble in paradise?" she asked wryly.

"There's no such thing."

Wallowski raised an eyebrow. "As trouble? Or paradise?"

"What's the case?" Cal asked, squinting so he wouldn't stand and upend his desk in an ape-like rage.

Cal's face looked pained. He'd suddenly reached the very end of his patience. Gillian had spent the night in a car with Dave, her Captain bloody America, while Wallowski showed up at his office for business only - and it seemed Cal was being punished for both.


	7. Adrift

A/N: one more chapter after this one. Thanks for stickin with :)

* * *

_Do you remember that time I came to you, and you were crying? I told you I wanted you so bad I could feel it in every bone of my body, and it hurt so much to think you didn't want me back. And then you told me you __did__ want me back, that you felt the same ache in your bones. You cried harder, and I kissed you. I could taste your tears. I wanted to make them go away. You held on to me and asked me to make love to you. And we made love. You were still crying, but you told me it was because you were happy. You smiled afterward, as I was wiping the tears, and you __did__ look happy. We were both happy afterward. _

_We stayed happy for a while, didn't we? Not all the time. Life takes its turns, you and I both know. But we were happy enough, or more than that, most of the time. We'd finally found that special balance with each other. _

_And then he came back, and it's all aching pain again. I can't pretend to know what you're feeling all the time, darling. Maybe you don't even know all the time. But I can guess pretty well what you're thinking, and I feel the tension building up. You don't want to bother me with the worry, but I'll worry all the same, so maybe you could open up to me. Every thought I have belongs to you now. I only breathe in your honor. You might think I only want to serve the needs of the company, or the needs of my little girl, but those are different stories. I want you to be a part of those stories, but right now you've been separated from them and I won't really be living until they're all back together again. Until we find that special balance._

* * *

"The worst part of it is I'm starting to feel what he must be feeling. That he had the most precious thing in the world and just...gave it away. She just slips through your fingers like sand, whether you hold on tight or not, do you know what I mean?"

Wallowski shook her head no. She did not know what he meant at all.

"If you think she's slipping away from you, you go out and you fight for her." she stated simply. She wondered what the hell was so difficult about that concept. Cal shook his head, dismissive, knowing she didn't get it.

"Why don't you go out and fight for her?" she asked.

"Because whatever happens, whatever she chooses, I'll know the truth." Cal said. He turned to look at her, one of the few times he'd done so during their long talk. They were at a bar, and Cal mostly stared at his scotch because he didn't need to read Wallowski's face. He didn't need to know how she reacted. He just needed someone to talk to.

"If it's guilt or loyalty that makes her stay with me instead of running off with him, I'll know the truth." Cal turned back to his drink, and continued to wallow in it. "Emily's going off to university soon and I'm going to be the loneliest man on earth."

"You're not the only person in this world with no one to keep them company." Wallowski informed him, not impressed.

"And I'm not the only one who's lost Gillian." Cal quipped. He thought of Alec a lot these days, and about the fact that he'd been able to stop worrying after a while. After a certain point he knew Gillian and Alec had stopped having sex, and that without children the end had been inevitable.

Dave was...different.

"We're the loves of each others lives. I know that, here." Cal pointed at Wallowski's chest, and for once it wasn't a lewd gesture meant to embarrass her. He was pointing at her heart, and in his buzzed state he meant it sincerely. "But if she decides to give it another go with him, in any shape or form...I don't know if the thing between us...if it'll ever be repaired."

Wallowski stared at Cal with narrowed eyes, squinting at him and wondering how a man could be so narcissistic. He kept staring into his drink like he could see his own reflection, like he wished it had ears so he didn't have to bother with human company.

"Why are you talking about this with me?" she asked him. "I thought we weren't friends anymore."

Cal laughed a little, grinning at the truth of that statement. The grin faded slowly, as his thoughts came back down.

"I'm talking to you because I know you'll tell me if I'm being a total wanker."

"You're being a total wanker." she said immediately, in her wry, American drawl.

Cal smacked his gums, lifting his drink to take another sip. "I knew I could count on you." he said, before downing the rest of his drink.

"I think you're both being stupid. You were stupid before you hooked up, and you're both being stupid now."

"You can call me stupid all you want but watch what you say about her." Cal said without any humor whatsoever. He had no patience left on the subject.

Wallowski scoffed, but she backed off. "You're kinda proving my point there." she muttered.

Cal didn't ask her what she meant by that.

* * *

Cal was still buzzed when he got home. He sat down on the couch, still staring into nothing. Dinner was not cooked, wine was not consumed, sex was not had and there was no warm snuggling to be done after it all. The house felt empty again, especially with Emily not at home.

_Gillian walked into the living room from the kitchen, barefoot, in jeans, her shirt sleeves rolled up with no bra on underneath. She had a glass of wine in her hand and she smiled at Cal. He was sitting there on the couch, arms spread out over the back of it, smiling up at her as she approached. She stopped in front of him, and kept her eyes on him while she sipped - and then gulped - her wine. She licked her lips as she let the glass drop to her side. Then she smiled again. She adored him._

_Cal grinned. "You're cute when you're tipsy."_

_Gillian chuckled. "So are you."_

_"I don't get tipsy." said Cal. Gillian narrowed her eyes at him. He lifted one of his hands from the back of the couch, just enough to gesture to her. "Come here, I'll show you."_

_"You'll show me how you don't get tipsy?" said Gillian, quite skeptical. _

_"Or I'll show you something else."_

_Gillian bit her lip as she grinned, and set her wine glass down on the coffee table as she chuckled. Then she mounted the couch on her knees, straddled his hips, took his face in her hands and-_

"Dad?" Emily's soft voice poked him gently from across the room, stealing him from his memories. Cal seemed to wake up, as if from a dream, and he inhaled audibly as he lifted his head. Emily stood in the doorway, not yet committed to entering the room. "Where's Gillian?" she asked. She had no mischievous twinkle in her eye, only concern. Gillian should have been there already, and Cal had been late coming home. Emily could see that, slightly drunk or not, for the last two days he had not been himself.

"If I knew where she was," said Cal. "I'd be there."

Emily continued watching with furrowed brow and big, worried eyes. "Are you guys fighting again?" she asked.

"I don't know what we're doing, Em." Cal looked at her to make sure she knew he wasn't being snippy. "Honestly, I don't." he said, because it wasn't the typical lover's tiff, and his view of all possible outcomes ranged from fuzzy to being in complete denial.

Emily took a step into the room, just around the doorway, and leaned on the inside wall. "I know you don't want to talk about it." she said. "You've just been really quiet for the last few days. It makes me anxious."

Cal motioned for her to come sit next to him. Emily pushed away from the wall and sat next to her father, and she gave him a big hug and a much needed snuggle. She draped an arm over his stomach, rested her head on his chest, stared through the coffee table and worried some more. If Gillian were to leave, Cal would remain sad for a very, very long time.

The silence dragged on. They were comfortable, but Cal wondered if Emily didn't have somewhere else, somewhere happier to be.

"Sorry." said Cal. "Not very good company, am I?"

"You're fine." said Emily. "I just don't want you to be sad."

"Can't help it sometimes."

"I know. I know how much she means to you."

Cal smiled softly, and set his hand on the top of his daughter's head. "Do you?"

"Yup." said Emily. "I'm the one that made you say it, remember?"

"You little matchmaker, you."

"I don't think it counts as matchmaking if the two affected parties were already in love." Emily observed, tossing her philosophy out in the usual dry manner.

Cal squeezed Emily's shoulders, and kissed the top of her head for saying that. He squeezed so hard it almost hurt, but Emily didn't mind. Squeezing the love out, that's how she described it. Love just had to hurt sometimes if it was really going to count.

* * *

At eleven o'clock, Cal received a call on his cell phone. He answered right away. He had a special ringtone for her. He opened the line but for the life of him he couldn't think of what to say. So he sat on his couch feeling lost while Gillian waited for him to greet her.

Gillian waited a few seconds more. "Cal?" she asked, hoping.

"I miss you." was all he said.

On her end of the call, Gillian's eyes slipped shut, and she pressed her lips together to keep from falling apart.

"I love you." said Cal, when he didn't receive an answer.

"I love you too." said Gillian.

"Where are you right now?" Cal asked. "Or is it foolish of me to ask?"

"I'm at home. I'm at my apartment." Gillian corrected herself. "I just wanted you to know that I'm here alone. I thought it was important that you know that."

"You don't have to be alone, Gill." said Cal. "You want me to go over there, I'll do it."

"I just wanted you to know that I'm safe."

Adrift. That's how Cal felt. An entire sea around him, no land in sight. He didn't know which direction to start paddling, and even if he chose a direction, he would be paddling with his hands to nowhere.

"I'm sorry." said Gillian.

"What for?"

"For doing this to us. For shaking your faith in me."

Cal ran a hand over his face, straining against a sudden flare of anger. "I don't want to have this conversation over the phone, Gill."

She was quiet for a moment. Contemplating. "Neither do I." she said.

Shit, _shit_, he hadn't meant it that way. He didn't mean shut up, he just meant-

"Can you come over?" she spoke up, before Cal's brilliant mind could stumble any further. The sea rushed into his body, and it was relief. So much relief.

"Of course." he scolded her. "Of course I can."

He scolded her because he could hear in her voice the threat of tears. She was scared to call out to him. Scared of being rejected, the way he'd rejected her in the hallway at work.

_Shit._

"I'll be right there." he reassured her.

_'I'm sorry for shaking your faith in me._'

"Okay." she said, reassured.

_I didn't mean it._

"I'm leaving now."

_'I'm sorry for doing this to us.'_

"Okay." her voice echoed. She was too exhausted to say anything else.

_You didn't do anything to us, Gill. Just bad timing, is all._

God, he just didn't want to have this conversation over the phone. He needed to see her face. He needed to look into her eyes and make sure she felt every word he was going to say.

_There's nothing wrong. He's just a visitor. A ghost passing by. We are what's real, here. We're the only ones that are real._


	8. For Some Time Now

When the moment of clarity arrives - or when it returns - you don't remember why the vision was muddy before, or why it took so long to clear up. Suddenly the bad thing doesn't matter anymore, and you want to gather all the good things in one place and hold them there forever, hold them close enough so that, even if the vision gets muddy again, they'll remain right next to you. You'll feel them, and you know they won't get lost in the confusion.

"Em." Cal said quietly. He spoke through her door, right before giving it a soft knock. It was already ajar and she gave no protest, so Cal poked his head in. Emily, on her bed, looked up from a book, her eyebrows raised in question. "I'm going out." Cal told her. "I need to go to Gillian's."

"Did you guys make up?" asked Emily.

"I think we're going to, yeah."

Emily's expression softened. "Go." she said. "Run to her."

"Brush your teeth." Cal quipped as he removed his head from the doorway. Emily smiled, glad to see him in a relatively better mood. She was still smiling when Cal poked his head in again a split second later. "I love you." he added, not wanting to leave without saying it.

"Love you too." Emily called out as he left for real.

The roads were empty. It was a sleepy night. Every red light was a test of patience. When Cal turned the corner onto Gillian's block he resisted the urge to roll out of the moving car and run the rest of the way. As he parked in the spot right in front of her apartment, he thought of Dave, sitting in cars, lurking in the shadows around the places Gillian went. He thought about Dave sitting in the parking lot of the company Cal and Gillian ran together, about Dave avoiding Cal while he waited for Gillian.

Cal scanned the immediate area, looking for occupied vehicles. He stopped when he spotted one across the street. There was a hand on the wheel, attached to a man who slouched in the driver's seat, a man that stared back and made no attempt to hide his body or hide the fact that he'd seen Cal first.

Cal stood and stared back, preparing himself for anything. Dave wanted her back, but was he desperate enough to go through Cal to get her? Would he care enough about Gillian to let her go? Cal didn't want to knock on Gillian's door until he knew the answers to those questions.

Their staring continued a good ten seconds or more. They both lost count, lost in similar thoughts. Dave was there because Gillian had not shown up at the other meeting place, where Dave promised he'd be that night. Dave was there because he needed to know for sure it had been her choice, that she had not been otherwise detained, held up or intercepted. The hours had passed, with Dave knowing Gillian was inside her apartment alone. He'd watched with endless patience, studying the soft glow that lit up the front window, the one that looked into the living room. The curtains were drawn; he couldn't see inside, and there were no storytelling silhouettes to tell him what was going on. All he knew was that she was in there alone. And then Cal showed up.

What Cal saw, when he spotted the other man across the street and through the darkness, was a calm acceptance. Dave reasoned that Cal would have been there in Gillian's place already, unless there was friction between them. Dave also reasoned that Cal was there now because the friction was gone, or because Gillian wanted the friction to be gone. Either way, Gillian chose Cal. Just as Dave always known she would. Dave had to choose his job, to choose protecting those his job affected. So - calm acceptance. She had Cal. Dave knew he was the intruder now. Time to disappear.

Cal watched Dave sit up, turn the key, pull away from the curb and drive away. The moment Dave broke eye contact, Cal knew it was over. He even felt some sympathy for Dave, the defeated one. To lose her again, to know there was no second chance...

_Just a ghost passing by._

The moment passed, and Cal didn't care where Dave went, as long as it was away.

The front door opened as Cal's foot hit the first step. There was a nice warm apartment behind her, waiting for him like she was waiting for him. He thought briefly of asking her - _Did you see him out there? Were you scared? _- but if she hadn't seen him, if she hadn't been scared, he didn't want to put the suggestion in her head. He didn't want her to think about him at all. Dave just didn't matter anymore.

"That's enough unfinished business for one lifetime." said Cal, making his way slowly up her front steps.

The corners of Gillian's mouth turned up. "It's finished." she said. Her eyes were red, but they'd been redder. She may not have let Dave inside but she'd gotten her closure. It helped when Cal agreed to come over without asking if she'd gotten it yet.

"Do I get my makeup sex now?" Cal joked, but the push-your-buttons malice was absent, and there was real hope in the question. Gillian's smile deepened. She was way too tired to even pretend to be bothered by his little jokes. She was too in need of the same thing to even pretend she wasn't hoping for it too. _Come in_ she said with her body, moving aside. Cal put his hand on the edge of the door, and Gillian released it so he could close the door himself.

"Is that why you give me such a hard time?" Gillian asked him. She walked backward, he walked forward, and by the time he embraced her Gillian's back was to a wall and her arms were around his waist underneath his jacket. Cal reached up and pet her hair, cradled her face, needing to touch her and hold her and have her. He kissed her mouth. It was sweet, and hot, and when Cal looked into her eyes afterward it hit him, how badly he wanted to be inside of her.

"Do we fight just to have makeup sex?" she asked him.

Hearing her say the word in that voice of hers made him hard. It happened fast when he didn't have to hide it. He kissed her again, and it occured to him. They'd had a real fight, a real deep down problem, and they were really making up this time. It was fixed, and it felt good. What came next was going to feel even better.

Did they fight just to have makeup sex?

"We wouldn't need it this badly if that were the case." he told her.

Her hands tugged at the fabric of his shirt. There was nothing to unbutton. His lips were on hers and she just wanted the shirt to be gone.

* * *

"...Cal."

"...Gill."

"If Sharon Wallowski gave up all her money and time to serve meals to crippled, blind, homeless children...there's still a part of me that would hate her."

"I know, Gill."

"But I can tolerate her. I mean, I can try to tolerate her, when she comes in with a worthy case."

Cal sat up, crunching his abs just enough so he could reach behind his head and fold his pillow in half. He kept it folded by dropping back down on top of it, keeping hold of Gillian's shoulder's with his other arm the entire time.

"It's the cases." he explained as Gillian laid her head back down on his chest. "She dumps these sad stories in my lap, sad enough that she knows I won't turn them away."'

"I know." Gillian said, hand resting on his stomach as she settled back into him. "And I'm not going to let my irrational anger toward a single woman interfere with helping those people. The people that actually need the help."

"Because she's just using me as a shortcut to actual police work?"

"As a crutch. Exactly."

Cal smiled. He didn't want Gillian to see it, or to hear it. It just warmed his heart to know Gillian would always have those jealous feelings for him. She knew Cal had them for her. It was only fair. But what kind of woman would make a conscious effort to get along with - or, at the very least try to tolerate - her perceived rival?

"You're good to me." Cal told her.

"We're good to each other." said Gillian. "When it's possible."

"And when it's impossible?"

"Nothing is impossible."

"Walked right into that one, didn't I?"

Gillian chuckled, and then grew quiet. She was contemplating how she wanted to tackle her next topic. There was one more thing to clear up.

"Can I talk to you about him? Just for a minute?"

"If you really need to."

"It's just that the circumstances were extreme. I want you to understand something about the relationship, about the difference between that one and ours."

Cal took a deep breath and let it out. "You have the floor." he said. "And the blanket." he added.

Gillian sat up and pulled the blanket over, giving Cal more to cover himself. He enjoyed the warmth, but Gillian's body was covered in the process. Cal lifted the blanket up to take a peek, and she pushed it back down gently with her hand. She looked straight at him, using her steady counselor's gaze to get her point across.

"I fell in love with him because he made me happy."

Cal gazed back at her. "And you fell in love with me because I make you miserable, is that it?"

"No, Cal." Gillian said softly, though she knew he was kidding. "I fell in love with you because we're meant to be together. Dave was...a romance. A fantasy. And it worked for a little while because we really loved each other. What you and I have is real life. There's no getting rid of you, there's no getting rid of me. We were already together - we were married to each other before either of us realized it."

"Interesting choice of words there, for your analogy."

"It's not, not really." Gillian argued. "I've been more of a wife to you than Zoe ever was."

Cal didn't bother hiding his surprise at her statement. It was all in his eyebrows.

She reacted with a wry expression. It would have been smug or haughty, if she hadn't made being right look so adorable.

"Do you disagree?" she asked.

Cal felt his mouth forming a smile. He couldn't help it. "I think the surprise comes more from hearing you admit it."

Gillian glanced down, a tiny smile playing at her lips. She settled back down, snuggling against him. "The make-up sex makes me honest, I guess."

She reached up to push the hair away from her face, then draped her arm over his chest, where it had been before. Cal rested his arms around her shoulders again. He stared at the opposite wall, and he felt her bare skin with his fingers.

"Move in with me?" he asked her.

She thought about it. Perhaps the silence should have bothered him, but if she'd answered right away, the answer would have been no. She was thinking about it. That meant the answer was at least a maybe.

"Okay." she said. It wasn't a definite plan, but the actual move was a formality at this point. As the woman said, they'd already been married for some time now.

The End.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks so much to you patient readers, the lovely reviews kept me going and helped me finish this story when I thought inspiration was gone. That's it for this one, hope it satisfied. :)_


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